


Lonely Child

by itshysterekal



Series: Don't Call Me T'hy'la [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, F/M, Guilt so much guilt, M/M, Minor Character Deaths, Torture, Vulcan Issues, alternating pov, cliffhanger ending for this story, happy ending for the series, jim is the king of guilt, major character death (not permanent/Into Darkness compliant), more tarsus iv fallout, mostly linear narrative, mostly movie compliant, never have sex with a ch'koral, oblivious command officers pining at poor overworked CMO middle man, reference to/discussion of past sexual assault/non-con/dub-con, uhura and spock do not stay together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 13:52:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 79,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13168305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itshysterekal/pseuds/itshysterekal
Summary: Jim Kirk is still reeling from the events of Tarsus IV and the subsequent Starfleet coverup. From the Kobayashi Maru to his first mission in space, Jim refuses to let anyone die and will cheat or break a few dozen regulations to do it- much to the frustration of one S'chn T'gai Spock. Space is a dangerous place and it's hard enough to run a starship without the trauma of Jim's past or his blossoming feelings for his first officer... who seems to be hiding something important of his own.Part two of three. You might be able to keep up without reading part one, but it's not recommended.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS AN IMPORTANT WARNING! Part two ends on a CLIFFHANGER. Part three is maybe 10% drafted. You will not get a resolution to this story, should you choose to read it now, for several months. But you can make your own choices. I had three days off work in a row and i usually don't get more than one, so i did a LOT more editing than i would normally get done in such a short time frame.
> 
> Anyway, i have like half an hour before i need to get ready for work, so have some part two because i like it better. (I spent literally all of my waking hours editing yesterday, so here's the resulting windfall. Expect more when i get home in ~10 hours.)
> 
> I currently have someone beta-ing part one, so it is subject to (minor, shouldn't affect the overall story) change. Said beta has told me about the em-dashes and i vetoed that because i'm an asshole who thinks they're above the rules of punctuation or something.

If someone had told Jim sooner what a turn-on the Starfleet uniform was to so many women, he would have enlisted sooner. It was like his teenage years were back, except better and with a set schedule. Where before he’d been learning whatever struck him, now there was order and requirements. Better still, he didn’t have to work since Pike had arranged for Jim to have a full ride, including room and board. 

His days were spent learning and beating every test that was thrown at him, and his nights were spent with beautiful women of all races, shapes, and abilities. Sometimes more than one. Once, he even spent a night with an alien girl who was shaped more like a squid than a humanoid. He might not repeat the experience, but it was definitely not a mistake. His favorite was Gaila. She was beautiful and passionate and smart and it was weird when she told him she loved him the second time they slept together, but she explained a few days later that her culture used the word in a different way. She was just talking about his body and the way he made love to her, she promised. 

He would still made a point not to sleep with her again. 

The only thing he wasn’t prepared for was the Vulcan professor. He wasn’t in any of the man’s classes, but he saw him in the hallway with Uhura once and stopped breathing. He could have been Ty. Jim’s brain shut off completely and in that moment, he was. The professor was the Vulcan boy who had been everything to Jim, who had broken him, who was the reason Jim couldn’t love anyone ever again. 

“Ty,” he breathed and one of those eyebrows rose above eyes that looked exactly like his dead friend’s. “T’hy’la.” 

The Vulcan almost seemed startled, and Jim’s words must have had an impact because his second eyebrow joined the other, higher on his brow. “Do I know you, Cadet?” 

Jim blinked and felt his face heating up as shame nauseated him. “Sorry, you just… You don’t recognize me?” 

“I do not.” 

“Ty…”

“Spock, why is this cadet calling you T’hy’la?” Uhura asked, and there was an edge to her voice. 

“As this is the first time we have met, I cannot tell you,” Spock replied, but he was still looking at Jim. “Cadet, would you care to explain?” 

Jim’s senses had come back when he heard Uhura speak and remembered someone else was there to witness his humiliation. Starfleet had done him the courtesy of erasing Tarsus from his file. He wasn’t about to utter the word here, in front of Uhura and a professor. “I’m sorry,” Jim apologized, though his usual confidence was shaken. “You just look like someone I used to know.” 

Spock inclined his head slightly. “Cadet,” he said before Jim could properly escape. “I am sorry for your loss.” 

Jim gave him a stricken look as he punched the button for the lift. Though they spoke in hushed voices, he could hear the Vulcan explain that he’d deduced a loss, not in the recent past, because that was the most likely explanation for Jim’s inability to recognize someone so important to him. The lift doors opened and he stepped inside, punching the button for his dorm room with far more force than necessary. Part of him hoped this would mean Uhura would be nicer to him (or maybe give him her first name), but mostly he was relieved to hear her suggest that maybe he was some kind of xenophobe and that all Vulcans looked the same to him. 

He didn’t hear the response. 

He and Gaila fucked hard that night. 

The next morning, Bones was banging on his bedroom door and Jim smirked as he realized how loud they’d been. He could just picture Bones’ face. He’d be unable to decide between irritated or scandalized. Giggling, Gaila got dressed and hurried past him carrying her shoes. 

“Jim,” Bones grumbled as he dragged the cadet from bed, not caring at all about his nudity. “Get some damn pants on, man.” 

Jim smirked as he pulled some clean boxers out and pulled them on. “Try to contain your jealousy, Bones.” 

“Jealousy!” Bones echoed. “May I remind you which one of us has actually successfully had a monogamous relationship last longer than a month?!” 

Jim was tempted to point out that monogamy wasn’t his goal or that Bones’ successful relationship ended in the divorce, but he wasn’t that cruel. Besides, he liked Bones. He was like a cuddly porcupine and Jim couldn’t help but want to keep him around. It was a risk to get attached to anyone, but Jim was pretty sure he could take this one. “Seriously, what crawled up your ass and died?” 

“Your grades if you don’t hurry up and get out of bed, you cotton-headed-“

Jim snorted and Bones was cut off mid-insult. “Relax, Bones, it’s only- oh, shit.” 

Jim hurried into his uniform and tried to flatten the sex out of his hair. He had an exam today, an important one. No one had ever beaten the Kobayashi Maru simulation, and he was going to be the first. “I have an exam to beat!” he called over his shoulder as he sprinted across the campus to the computer labs. 

_We are experiencing a distress call from the U.S.S. Kobayashi Maru…_

It was a simple enough premise. Jim ordered the ship to the rescue when suddenly, “Two Klingon vessels have entered orbit and are locking weapons on us.” 

“Shields up!” Jim ordered, his heart finally starting to beat a bit faster. He’d read dozens of books and modules on battle strategy. He knew every maneuver in them, and even a few non-standard things he could do with the ship that would result in an attack-like maneuver. Jim had never felt more prepared or confident in his life.

“Three more Klingon warbirds decloaking and targeting our ship!” called out the cadet working as his security officer and, if Jim wasn’t mistaken, he detected a note of sadistic glee in Uhura’s voice when she stated the obvious, “They’re firing on us!” 

“Fire at the ship on the right, full power!” Jim ordered and they managed to destroy it. They repeated the order until finally all five were destroyed. 

“Shields at ten percent,” the cadet informed him. 

“Begin rescue of-“

“A full Klingon warship is decloaking, Jim!” the cadet informed him and Jim didn’t even need to turn to know Uhura was smirking at him. 

“Well, what are we running our mouths for? Fire!” 

A hit literally rocked the room and Jim gripped the arms of the captain’s chair, forgetting it was a simulation for a moment. Putting the simulation bridge in a globe allowed them to simulate hits and malfunctions to help realize the stress of being under attack. It was the pride and joy of Starfleet Academy and Jim realized why now. His heart was racing.

“Shields at four percent!” the cadet yelled. 

“Set the warp core to overload and eject!” Jim ordered. 

The cadet looked over his shoulder with an incredulous look. “Do it!” Jim shouted. 

They actually managed to destroy the warship. Everyone turned to look at Jim like he’d done the impossible. He grinned in triumph and glanced back to see Uhura’s mouth open in genuine shock. Apparently no one had ever destroyed the full blown warship before. 

“Tell engineering to begin rescue of the survivors, and send word to Starfleet that we’re going to need transport with warp capability to give us a tow.” 

Uhura put the parameters into her station. 

“Our beaming capabilities were damaged in the attack.” 

Jim sighed. What sadist programmed this simulation? “Okay, prepare shuttles to-“

“Captain, the warship’s core is overloading-“

“What?” Jim said. 

“It’s overloading and drifting closer to the Kobayashi Maru. If it explodes near the other ship, it will likely cause a chain reaction-“

“Okay, I got it!” Jim snapped. “Status of our tractor beams?” 

“Non-functional.” 

“Okay,” Jim acknowledged and tapped his fingers in aggravation as he tried to think. He looked up at the screen. “How long until the warship blows?” 

“Nine minutes.” 

“Helm, maximum impulse. Ram the warship off its course.” 

It took three minutes for their ship to make contact with the warship to knock it off course and Jim spent it tense as his thoughts wandered. He ran every scenario in his head except the one that happened: the impact with the overloading warship damaged their electrical so that they couldn’t steer. “Full reverse!” he ordered, and everyone in the room was suddenly involved. They had all done the simulation before. They knew how it went, but none of them had gotten this far, and the newness, the possibility of winning _just once_ had everyone tense. Even Uhura couldn’t tear her eyes away and Jim knew she’d come into this thrilled to see him fail. 

The warship was drifting away and that was something. Their ship managed to get just out of range, but the Kobayashi Maru was not so lucky. When the nine minutes had ticked down, the screen lit up with the explosion and when they could all see again, nothing was left but their ship and the rubble of the others. 

The energy in the room fell flat. Jim remained frozen where he was. He’d defeated the Klingons, but all of the people he was supposed to save were dead. It felt too familiar. He walked out without looking at any of them and didn’t wait to hear his grade. He already knew. He’d failed. 

The showers in Starfleet dormitories could be hotter, but apparently they decided no one needed scalding water and that it was a waste of energy to heat it to a temperature that would help burn Jim’s attention away from the thing that was eating at him. 

He spent far too long in that shower and it almost did him good, but not good enough. Jim dried off and climbed into bed naked, groaning when Bones was banging on his door an hour later. “Of course you didn’t pass the test, Jim!” Bones called through his door. Jim was glad he’d programmed a good locking algorithm into it. “No one passes the test! That’s the damn point!” 

Jim tried to ignore him, but then Bones was yelling something at him about moping and Jim was not willing to admit that was what he was doing. So he put on some pants and got dressed properly before waltzing out as if nothing had happened. “You sure are worked up about a guy doing his hair,” Jim remarked before continuing his waltz to dance right out the door. “See you later and I won’t be alone!” 

If Bones believed him or not was irrelevant. Jim was going to take his mind off it and Bones would regret not allowing him to “mope” as he insisted on calling it. Jim made sure to be very vocal later that night, and did his best to ensure his partner was as well.


	2. Chapter 2

Spock looked at the report on Cadet James Kirk’s progress in his simulation. He’d gotten much further than Spock had ever expected anyone to, and his sacrifice of the ship’s warp drive showed an ingenuity even Spock would not have thought of. In fact, he had never even programmed a way to destroy the warship. He’d programmed a contingency for its damage in case any “captain” managed to maintain shields long enough to disable it, but he never expected anyone to destroy it. 

Cadet Kirk’s progress intrigued Spock enough to look up his file. He recognized the face right away, though the picture in his file seemed to be gloating, not at all like the haunted look he’d seen when the young cadet had mistaken him for his lost t’hy’la. Uhura knew the meaning as well as a non-Vulcan possibly could, but she did not understand. He tried to explain that the concept of t’hy’la was not something one could forget. No, if Cadet Kirk had known a Vulcan that was t’hy’la to him, it would have been a long time ago. Long enough that the Vulcan would have had to age and change in appearance. One does not forget the face of t’hy’la. 

There was no indication in the young man’s file to indicate he’d visited Vulcan however. There was not even an indication that he had gone off-planet. Spock was uncertain as to how the cadet could have met a Vulcan, but he supposed it was not impossible. He had, after all, visited Earth with his father several times in his youth. Other Vulcans may have done the same. Vulcans visited other planets for study periodically. Spock did not know what would interest them in Iowa, but still it was possible. 

“Ugh, you obviously heard then,” Uhura said by way of greeting. She placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and sat next to Spock. 

“The cadet’s performance was admirable,” Spock stated as he closed the file. He’d already gleaned everything he could from it anyway. He turned his attention to her only to see his words had managed to annoy her. 

“Kirk is a raging sexist who is so full of himself I’m surprised he had any ideas in there good enough to get that far in the simulation.” 

Spock raised an eyebrow. He had not received this impression from the cadet, but he was also aware that often human males displayed different characteristics toward human females than they did to other males. “Has he made you uncomfortable?” Spock asked, concern evident in his mostly-monotone voice. 

She shook her head. “No, I can handle him. I’m just irritated that he’s getting this ego boost. When I first met him, he was hitting on me in a bar. I thought he was funny. I wasn’t interested, but it was funny to watch him try. I thought he was harmless, but that ego…”

Spock inclined his head. “Too much confidence is indeed a bad thing.” 

“And now he probably feels justified in it, so it’s only going to get worse.” 

“Then perhaps the simulation should get worse to match,” Spock suggested. “That is, after all, its purpose. To remind future officers that we are not invincible and that sometimes all we can do is pick the least bad option.” 

Uhura sighed. “Too bad he’s already taken it.” 

“On the contrary,” Spock interjected. “Cadet Kirk has put in a request to retake the test. I believe he harbors the intent of beating it.” 

“Are you-? He what? He is really something else,” she muttered. It was clear she intended to elaborate, but her communicator interrupted. “Well, it looks like I don’t have to stay with you tonight, after all. That dick canceled on Gaila. Guess he thinks he’s too good for her now. It’s the other way around, but I can’t say I’m not glad he’s out of her life.” 

“Nyota,” Spock interrupted with a gentle touch to her cheek. “Perhaps your time would be better spent thinking about something else?” 

She sighed and leaned into the touch. “You’re right. He doesn’t deserve my time or energy. I’m still willing to stay if you’d like.” 

Spock nodded. “I would find your continued presence most agreeable.” 

She gave him a small, warm smile that brought a green tint to his cheeks. “Chess?” she suggested and he agreed easily. 

***

Spock inclined his head to Uhura as she walked into his office. “So I just had lunch with Leonard,” she informed him, “and I’ve got the perfect thing to add to the Kobayashi Maru.” 

He listened actively as she described Doctor McCoy’s story of a drunken cadet and a few of the things he’d said and Spock could not help but wonder if the drunkenness was a response or if his simulation had just been something for a drunk mind to latch onto. He wondered again about the cadet’s lost t’hy’la and if Cadet Kirk might be suffering from the human psychological condition of projection. 

If his t’hy’la had been lost in some kind of no-win scenario. 

Uhura seemed determined to hate Jim Kirk, but Spock was beginning to find him fascinating. There was something there which did not make sense, a loose thread that Spock desperately wanted to pull. He had several theories, all of which required more data. 

“I have never seen you quite so…”

“Fired up?” 

“Biased.” 

She looked insulted for a full two seconds before hiding it. “Alright, maybe I am,” she admitted. “But it’s kind of hard not to be. Spock, from the day I met him, he’s been the exact kind of person even you would like to kick out of the Academy. He’s a party boy and he doesn’t care who he hurts.” 

Spock thought it seemed clear that his behavior in the simulation indicated a great care for those who could be hurt, but he did not point this out to her. “So what exactly did you plan to do with the information you’ve just relayed me?” 

“I want to prove Kirk wrong,” she replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “He talks a big game, insists everything is all or nothing, but when it comes down to it…”

Spock waited patiently for her to continue. She didn’t. “Nyota, is your concern that he will forever insist on rescuing all Federation parties in the simulation? While it is illogical, it is not ignoble.” 

“My concern is that it has nothing to do with the survivors of the Kobayashi Maru, Spock. And I can prove it. Change the simulation. Let me add a communications subroutine. He doesn’t care about saving lives. He cares about winning. That’s all.” 

Spock regarded her, thinking briefly about the ethics of using personal knowledge of a cadet to tailor the simulation, of using it as what could almost be described as an experiment. Experimenting on living creatures without their informed consent was not ethical, but was it truly an experiment? What harm could it cause to allow Nyota to add another contingency to the program? Additionally, Cadet Kirk was retaking the test. They would need to make it harder to ensure that it would continue to provide a truly unwinnable scenario and, if her information helped the lesson to hit home for him, perhaps it was what would most benefit the cadet. “Are you familiar with the programming?” 

“Not exactly, but it’s not like I mind spending time with you.” She smiled at him and pressed a gentle fingertip to his. He could feel her affection for him, and it was only slightly tinged by her frustration with Kirk. 

“Then it seems logical for us to work on it together.” 

“Very logical,” she agreed, with a darkness in her eyes that suggested they would be spending a good deal of time connected at the fingertips that evening. 

While they worked, it was pure work. Some couples might sit too close or distract each other until the only work they would accomplish was copulation. Nyota was not like those individuals, which was something Spock deeply admired in her. It was the reason they worked so well together. They had been hiding their relationship since it had begun almost a year ago and Spock was already thinking of what it would be like to bond with her, to start a family with her. He wondered if he could trust her with the shame of his Time. 

“What are you thinking about?” she asked quietly. 

He shook his head. They’d been at work for about three hours and he’d let his mind wander. “I find myself becoming distracted. The simulation is set to its new parameters. I will be able to double check the code later. For now, I believe it would be beneficial to take time to obtain sustenance and perhaps focus on other things.” 

She gave him a small, knowing smile. “What sort of other things?” 

“I have obtained a holovid of the recent Starfleet World Relations Conference, replete with all of the keynote addresses.” 

“I would love to have dinner and a movie with you, Spock.” 

His cheeks turned slightly green and he wasn’t sure which one of them slid their fingers together. She placed a slow, human kiss to his lips and he smiled at her as they stood to leave. The other thing he appreciated so deeply about her was that she respected his customs. They engaged in many Earth dating customs, but she never pushed him. She did not insist on standing too close or making too much physical contact with him in public. Their connection was deep and emotional, not so much sexual. Spock was still a Vulcan and even the thought of sex made him blush to the tips of his ears. The kind of loss of control made him uneasy. Not even Uhura could make him comfortable enough for that level of abandon. 

His Time would be a different story. Spock would be half mad then. He didn’t know much about it, but he knew there was no fighting it and he would need a partner when it came upon him. The presence of T’Pring prickled lightly in the back of his mind, but he hoped truly it wouldn’t have to be her. He also hoped that, if he could achieve that level of comfort and intimacy with Nyota, that he would still be able to look her in the eye after it was done. 

He cared so very much for her.

They held hands, fingertips lightly brushing as they watched a lecture on the first contact with Nolan III and in the background of the address, Spock could sense her pride in being allowed to share such intimate contact. He was glad, not for the first time, that Vulcans were touch telepaths. Spock would otherwise worry constantly that he was not enough for her, that she required more from their relationship. He did not know how he had been so fortunate to find a human who did not require that which he could not give. 

The next day, he perfected their code alone and ran the simulation on his small screen, doing everything he could think of, including ejecting the overloading warp core at varying points. Spock spent time thinking about how else he could sacrifice parts of the ship in the event that Jim might as well. He went over the schematics to determine what the ship could function without, and in what ways they could be used. Most were useless. Food replicators could not be used as weapons and neither could the holodeck. Still, he came up with a few things that likely would never come up. It made Spock certain that he was prepared, however. 

Until he wasn’t. Jim Kirk, once again, surprised them all. He was not the first to attempt to bargain with the Klingons, but Spock had been certain he would be smarter. Klingons viewed surrender as dishonorable. They would never let him live. Hurriedly, he scribbled out the new subroutine in the form of dialogue and had it sent to the cadet who was on standby that day to play the role of Klingon captain. Hopefully it was not too late to incorporate Nyota’s feedback.

Spock did not understand his own motivation, but he very much wanted her to be wrong. He wanted there to be more to Cadet Kirk than the desire to win. Spock was certain that he cared far more deeply than he would ever admit. Even watching him made Spock more certain that there was something personal there, that Cadet Kirk was emotionally involved in the scenario. 

When he saw the Cadet’s face as he walked out, Spock wondered if he was not just emotionally involved but perhaps emotionally compromised. 

Well, Spock was not just the programmer of the Kobayashi Maru. He was a professor, and he was responsible for his students’ success. Why should he limit that to the students who enrolled in his classes? Spock began his plan almost as soon as the cadet walked out. He would find a way to talk to the young man, allow him to see reason from a less personal place. 

Spock did not believe confrontation would work. Cadet Kirk had already shown a remarkable talent for avoiding things which did not interest him. Spock would have to find a situation in which it would be socially unacceptable for the Cadet to ignore him, but in which he would not feel singled out. 

Spock would seek permission to teach a class Kirk was taking, preferably history or ethics. He knew exactly the example he wanted to provide for context.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, i think you know exactly which prompt that has been filled 500 million times is happening in the next chapter and i ain't even gonna pretend. It's my faaaaave and my heart was begging for it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one jumps back quite a bit for Jim's POV.
> 
> Just as a general note for this fic: if i gloss over something, it's probably going to be told in more detail in the other POV in the next chapter. Likewise, if i want something from both POV and it already happened, i'll probably gloss over the scene in the second one. Also, i'm writing this with the understanding that we all know what happens in the films and am therefore not writing every scene and glossing over quite a bit.

Jim had absolutely had enough of his ethics class. It was case study after case study of captains making the “hard decisions” that the Prime Directive apparently required. Jim believed in the Prime Directive, sure, but how could a culture flourish if they stood back and let half a planet commit genocide on the other half? 

When it finally let out, he headed straight for the sciences corridor to meet Bones. He had important matters to discuss with him, and he’d spent his entire ethics class making plans while tuning out the professor. 

“Bones!” Jim greeted as soon as he walked out the classroom door. 

Immediately the other man scowled. “You’d think you didn’t live with me with how often you seek me out.” 

Jim swung an arm around his shoulders and began to steer him for the exit. “I want you to be on my ship.” 

“As you keep telling me I’m your future CMO, I am aware of that,” Bones rolled his eyes. 

“No, not that ship. When I rescue the Kobayashi Maru.” 

Bones actually pulled free so Jim could get the full view of the scowl the medical man put on. “Jim, you already did the simulation!” 

“And I failed.” 

“Everyone fails. That’s the point.” 

Jim narrowed his eyes. “I don’t accept that.” 

“Jim, you can’t win ‘em all. I know it bothers you that-“

“Bones,” Jim cut him off. He didn’t need the reminder of the two days he’d spent pretending not to drown in his own misery. He was embarrassed enough. “It’s not about that. It’s about being the best, beating the unbeatable. I told you I got farther in the sim than anyone else ever has. I submit to you that it can be beat. You just have to be creative enough, prepared enough. I already have a new strategy.” 

“You know, you don’t get to run new strategies in the real world.” 

Jim clapped his friend on the arm. “And that’s why they give us these tests at the Academy! So we’re better prepared for these situations if they arise!” 

“You are one crazy son of a bitch,” Bones muttered. 

“Just say you’ll be on my crew,” Jim pleaded. “Come on, Bones. Don’t you want to be there when I kick some Klingon ass? There was a fucking _warship_ , Bones, and I took it out with the warp core.” 

“I guess it’s good you didn’t rescue the survivors then, since you wouldn’t have been able to get them home.” 

Jim scoffed. “We’d contacted Starfleet to pick us up.” 

“Us,” Bones echoed with another eyeroll. “I’m only agreeing to this because it’ll be less aggravating than arguing. And I’m sure it’ll be plenty aggravating.” 

“Great!” Jim beamed and turned so he was walking backward and facing his friend as they talked. “When they give me the date, I’ll let you know.” 

“It’s almost the end of the semester. Do you even have time to retake the simulation?” 

“No, they said I’ll have to wait for the fall. Once a semester, I’ve been told.” 

Bones sighed. “I’m sure they made that rule just for you, Jim. I’ll be surprised if anyone else has ever asked to retake it. The point is to fail. It’s the _point_ , Jim.” 

The cadet only shook his head with a fond smile. “Let’s get drinks,” he suggested. “I feel like going out.” 

Bones grumbled some more and Jim only grinned fondly as they made their way off campus to find a decent bar. (And by “decent bar,” Jim meant “dive bar.”) Bones hated going out with Jim because he invariably found a woman to hit on within thirty minutes, and usually abandoned his roommate in under an hour. 

He’d found an attractive brunette in only ten minutes and Bones was finishing his beer alone as Jim worked his charm. It was going really well until Uhura showed up. Jim could not have possibly missed her as she made her presence known by smacking him in the face- hard. He could feel the bruise stinging its way to the surface of his cheek. Meanwhile, Bones was laughing at him a few seats over. 

“Jim Kirk!” Uhura said angrily. “You and I had plans for our anniversary and I find you out at another bar wrecking our home!” 

Jim stared at her blankly, wondering if she’d lost her mind. Turning to the girl, she lowered her voice. “I’m so sorry you had to witness this. Jim here is intractable. I’d divorce him if I could. Lying, cheating…”

She trailed off as the brunette hurried away and turned on Jim with no trace of amusement. “What the hell was that for?” Jim demanded. 

She poked him in the chest and he winced, holding his hands up in protest. “That was for making my roommate think she was special and then dumping her!” 

Jim’s eyes widened. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he assured her, feeling like he was in a spinning teacup ride. “I make it pretty clear I’m not a long term kind of guy…”

“You’re a pig, Jim Kirk. You’re a pig and I cannot wait to see you fail that stupid simulation again.” 

“I won’t fail,” Jim promised her. 

“Yes. You will.” 

“If I beat it, will you tell me your first name?” 

“You won’t beat it.” 

“Oh come on, but what if I do?” 

Uhura looked like she wanted to smack him again. “Kirk, you need an ego check. You may have gotten farther than most others, but you’re not invincible. The rules do apply to you. Get a grip.” 

“I have a grip. There’s always a choice, Uhura. There’s no such thing as a no-win scenario.” 

She sighed heavily and shook her head. “Then I’ll see you the next time you fail the Kobayashi Maru.” 

Jim returned to Bones as Uhura stalked away. He definitely was not getting laid after that very loud performance on her part. “Serves you right, breaking some poor girl’s heart like that,” Bones teased him. 

“And that’s enough out of you,” Jim muttered, but he was smiling as he said it. “Guess we can’t come here again.” 

“No, _you_ can’t come here anymore,” Bones corrected him. “I’m just fine.” 

Jim shook his head fondly. “Let’s get snockered.” 

By the time they left the bar, Jim was grinning from ear to ear and Bones was, too. It looked good on the man and Jim decided to get him properly drunk more often. The doctor didn’t seem to even remember the name Jocelyn existed, let alone the ex-wife to whom it belonged. 

They both collapsed on the couch together and stared at the opposite wall in silent contentment for a moment. This was different from the drunk he’d been before. That kind of drunk was a punishment and an escape. It was Jim trying to wreck his liver and dull his brain into nonexistence. This was a celebration. This was an experience he wanted to share with his good friend Bones. 

“We’re gonna be so hung over tomorrow,” Jim chuckled. 

“Water!” Bones decided, but made no move to get up. Jim laughed again. “What? I don’t see you genning- getna-ning… getting it.” 

Jim patted his friend’s knee. “Maybe I should, though. Don’t you southern country gentlemen know how to hold your liquor?” 

“Oh, we do,” Bones promised. “But I got a very large head start on you while you were wrecking Uhura’s home with that brunette.” 

Jim barked out a laugh. “When I beat that simulation, that’ll really wreck her home,” Jim decided. “I’m pretty sure me failing was the highlight of her semester.” 

“It’s that attitude of yours,” Bones nodded. “Uhura’s got a sensible head on her shoulders. It aggravates her to see someone like you, who has no regard for facts.” 

“I have plenty of regard for facts!” Jim objected. 

“Well, the facts are that that… that simulation,” Bones stumbled, “That simulation was designed to be unbeatable. You’re missing the lesson it’s supposed to provide, Jim.” 

“No one can make me give up, Bones,” Jim promised. His voice had gotten darker, and he was starting to feel like a morose drunk again. “If you put two of my crew in front of me and told me to pick which one would die, I would find a way to save them both.” 

“Why would anyone do that? And why do you keep bringing that up? What kind of fool hypo inject- hypothesi- hypothetical-?”

“I’m just saying.” 

“Jim, I know you think you can beat this thing, but you really can’t. It’s common knowledge. The Kobayashi Maru is a no-win situation. That’s the lesson. That’s the point. Sometimes you can fight brilliantly, but there’s still nothing you can do. People die. It happens. It’s not anyone’s fault.” 

“Then maybe it’s time to teach Starfleet a lesson, Bones. Maybe teaching us that there’s nothing we can do makes it harder to think of what we can do. I don’t agree with teaching that there are situations we should give up on.” 

“Jim, I don’t know what your obsession with this thing is, but even my drunk old foot knows you need to let it go.” 

Jim shook his head. “I can’t.” 

“And why not?” 

He thought about it. Jim really did. He almost said the words, a tiny echoing _I was on Tarsus IV_ , but instead he let out a dull, “I just can’t.” 

Bones sighed exasperatedly. “Alright, kid. Help me up. We need to drink some water and get to bed. Not all of us have the youth and vigor of a raccoon on steroids.” 

Jim felt himself warm a little at the playful insult. He loved Bones and, for the first time in a while, was pretty sure he wasn’t going to lose him. “Well, we can’t all be a grumpy… sheepdog.” 

Bones barked out a laugh and Jim wanted to point out the irony, but they were too busy trying to escape the gravity of the couch. They barely made it into the kitchen and Jim stopped at Bones’ room first. The man had drunk a lot more than Jim and, while the floor did feel a bit wobbly under him, he could manage on his own. 

Warmth filled his chest and put an easy smile on his face as he laid in bed and waited to fall asleep. 

Morning was not nearly so kind. 

With a groan of agony, Jim reached for his alarm, hitting blindly until the noise stopped. He had two final exams and he’d ace them like he always did, but it wasn’t going to be fun. 

Bones spent the entirety of breakfast muttering mutinies and promises to murder his roommate with the empty bottle of whiskey he’d drunk the night before and it was the high point of his day. 

Thanks to copious water and time, he was feeling less miserable by the time he’d taken his military theory exam and was almost leveled off after finishing his intro to psychology final. His head still throbbed dully, but he wasn’t sending everything death glares like he had been that morning. So, when he saw a pretty blonde sitting alone with nothing to do, he simply could not help himself. 

“Hello, couldn’t help but notice you were sitting here with no one to keep you company.” 

She flinched back a little. “Drunk, cadet?” she asked with a look that said she already knew the answer. 

“Last night I was,” he replied honestly. “No good influences around to stop me.” 

She snorted. “You don’t remember me, do you?” 

Jim’s face went partially blank with terror. She did seem a little familiar… “Fuck, I’m sorry… Jada…? Kim. Courtney?” Each name seemed to darken her face a bit more and Jim realized he shouldn’t have tried. It only got worse if he mixed them up with someone else. 

“Helen,” she said calmly. 

“Helen,” he repeated. “I’m not very good with names, but I really don’t think I’ve slept with a-“

“It was a while ago,” she interrupted. “I look a bit different now. Dyed my hair, grew up. I guess you didn’t, Jim.” 

Realization hit him harder than the hangover. He instinctively backed off both physically and mentally. “Hel?” he said in a quiet voice. 

“There he is,” she smirked. “Wow you really… only got worse, didn’t you?” 

Jim didn’t know what to say to that. “I’m glad you’re doing well. Or… you seem like you are.” 

“I am,” she nodded. “I got into rehab. I got away from my dad. And negative influences.” 

“Like me,” Jim stated. It wasn’t a question. 

“I wasn’t going to say it,” she assured him and the fucking kindness she was showing toward him was too much. 

“You don’t have to.” 

“Neither do you, you know. You don’t have to drink and party all the time. There’s more to life.” 

Jim smiled sadly. “I tried to message you once. To apologize. For running out on you. I… Fuck, I think about that a lot. Used to be every day, but this place has a tendency to make me forget a lot of important things.” 

“It’s okay,” she said and it seemed like she meant it. “Something they emphasize in rehab is forgiveness. You were the easier one. Especially now. Didn’t see it back then, but you were just as screwed up as I was.” 

“Yeah,” Jim agreed. Part of him wanted to correct her, wanted to say he was _more_ screwed up, but he didn’t know that, not really. “Still, I’m so… so sorry.” 

She gave him a bittersweet smile and patted his knee. “I spent a lot of time thinking about what I would say to you, Jim. Now that we’re here… I just kind of feel sorry for you.” 

It felt like she’d punched him. His defenses began to rise in protest. “That’s fine, you can think what you want, but I’m actually doing really well.” 

Her eyebrows rose. “I didn’t say you weren’t. Just… it’s pretty obvious you’re still that messed up kid. I mean… drinking before your final? Hitting on random girls while you still reek of alcohol?” 

“Whatever,” Jim muttered. He didn’t know why he was so upset by what she was saying. He stood to leave. “I’m glad you turned out okay.” 

“Jim, you don’t have to go,” she told him gently. 

“No, I do,” he replied in a clipped tone. “I also spent a lot of time thinking about what I’d say to you, you know? What would I say to someone who I had sex with when neither of us wanted to? Who I felt like I’d raped?” 

Her face had completely changed at that word. “Jim, no…”

“That’s what you call it when you have sex with someone who doesn’t really want to. Anyway, I told myself I’d apologize. I’d explain that I didn’t know how else to repay you, and I thought you wanted me to. And then I’d stay away from you because no one deserves a reminder hanging around them, expecting forgiveness or friendship.” 

She caught his hand and he startled, ripping it out of her grasp. “Jim, wait a minute, okay?” 

He shook his head. “We were toxic to each other back then and we’ll be toxic to each other now. I might seem messed up, but I’m not willing to risk hurting anyone. Especially someone I’ve already hurt.” 

“Look,” she said and glanced to her left, watching as a pair of cadets passed them by. She lowered her voice. “You’re right. We were toxic together back then. Maybe we still would be. But I thought I made it clear in the hospital that day: I wanted to do everything we did together. I still remember at least one time you didn’t really want to.” 

Jim felt his cheeks darken. He didn’t like where this was going, what she seemed to think she knew about him. He especially didn’t like that she was right. He didn’t like her trying to imply that she had raped him. People you cared about couldn’t do that. Besides, he’d agreed. Anyway, it didn’t matter what it was or wasn’t and he didn’t want to look at it too hard. “It’s in the past. Let’s keep it there.” 

She gave him a sad look. “If that’s what you want. Just know that you didn’t do anything wrong. Not by me. And, if you’re ever ready, we could talk.” 

Jim wanted to ask about what, but this conversation was already too awkward. He didn’t even know why she cared. He hadn’t meant anything to her. He was just a distraction from worse things. Like she had been to him. Or at least that’s what he’d always told himself. “You weren’t… in love with me or anything, were you?” 

She blushed a little and his heart sank. “I was a little, but not meaningfully. You were the first person that really seemed to care about me. It was… intoxicating.” 

Jim nodded uncomfortably. He didn’t need to say he hadn’t really been in love with her. Especially because he probably could have been if given some time and better coping skills. “I thought we were just distracting each other from our shitty childhoods.” 

“Well, like I said. Some day, we can talk about that. If you want.” 

Jim shook his head. “Thanks, but I like to leave the past where it is.” 

She nodded at him sadly. “Good luck, Jim.” 

He gave a short jerk of his head that resembled a nod. “You too.” 

_We are experiencing a distress call from the U.S.S. Kobayashi Maru…_

Just like last time, Jim ordered the ship forward to get within beaming range and, just like last time, “Two Klingon vessels have entered orbit and are locking weapons on us.” The only difference was that this time it was Bones keeping him informed. 

“Shields up!” Jim ordered, but he was calm this time. He knew what was coming, and he’d spent the entire summer planning for it. 

“Three more Klingon warbirds decloaking and targeting our ship. They’re firing on us,” Bones told him and Jim wasn’t phased by the lack of alarm or enthusiasm. 

“Helm, keep the warbirds in our sights. Get us between them and the Maru,” he ordered. “Uhura, try hailing them.” 

“No response,” she informed him with absolutely zero surprise. 

“Hail them our surrender,” he said instead. “Lower shields as soon as-“

“Our surrender?” Uhura repeated. 

“Yes, our surrender,” Kirk snapped. “And lower shields as soon as they stop firing to begin transporting survivors aboard.” 

The fire slowed and then came to a sudden halt. A cadet appeared on the screen. “My name is Kor, and I am the Klingon captain of this vessel.” 

Jim did not laugh, though it was ridiculous to see a human pretending to be Klingon. They could have at least given him some makeup. “We would like to negotiate the terms of our surrender,” Jim informed the “Klingon.” 

“There will be no terms,” the cadet informed him tersely. “I merely wished to see the face of a captain who would so dishonor his crew by surrendering.” 

“Sometimes surrender is the only way to victory.” 

Jim was practically vibrating with his impending victory. 

“Surrender is no victory,” the cadet stated. “Fear not, captain. We will spare your crew this dishonor.” 

Jim tensed as they took a direct hit. “Shields up!” he shouted. “Take them out right to left, full power!” 

They’d taken out three of the five when Bones said, “Jim, the core is overheating!” 

“Shit,” Jim muttered. How could they take out the warship without the core? “How long?” 

“Thirty seconds!” 

“Shit,” he repeated. He was on his feet and wasn’t sure when he’d stood. “Cease fire and eject the core toward the warbirds!” 

The two were taken out easily. “Report!” Jim said. 

“Shields at two percent,” Bones told him and Jim cursed silently this time. 

“Fuck the shields, start beaming survivors on board.” 

“A Klingon warship is decloaking.” 

Somehow this was going worse than his first time around. “Captain, they’re hailing us,” Uhura said and Jim couldn’t even be pleased that she finally called him captain in spite of herself. 

“On screen.” 

The same cadet’s face filled the screen even though that Klingon should’ve been killed. Guess they didn’t keep a lot of volunteers around for the sim. “Captain, your ship is crippled yet you still attempt to beat us. You have no hope of escape.” 

“Maybe I’m more honorable than you think I am,” Kirk replied easily. His heart was pounding. The simulation was falling apart again. 

“Perhaps. I am moved by your determination and will offer you a choice.” The word sparked a reaction in Jim. His knuckled went white with the pressure of his fist and he felt unsteady. “You may leave with the crew you have already rescued, but you must go now. Any further encroachment on our space will be met with lethal force.” 

“We’ll go as soon as we have all of them,” Jim stated firmly. 

“That is not an option,” the cadet replied. “You will leave now, or you will not leave.” 

Jim glared. “End communication.” As soon as the screen went blank, he added, “Fire everything.” 

“But, Jim-!” 

He knew what he was supposed to choose. He knew what they wanted him to choose. He especially knew how this was going to end and he wasn’t about to watch. Jim walked out with the death of his simulated ship perfectly silhouetting him in the doorway. What a shitty way to start the semester. 

He desperately needed a drink. 

Jim didn’t go to a bar this time. He stopped at a liquor store and bought a very large bottle of whiskey. It was cheap and would taste terrible, but it would do the trick. He was already slurring his words by the time Bones found him and took the bottle away. 

“You need to stop moping!” Bones lectured. “You can’t win everything, Jim. You can’t just walk in and charm everyone into giving you your way! You can’t just ignore something because you don’t like it, Jim, and you can’t drink away the rules of the world.” 

It was on the tip of his tongue again, pressing at the front of his brain, screaming at Bones, screaming about what he didn’t know. _I was on Tarsus IV._

“Goodnight, Bones,” he muttered and pushed past him roughly. He was angry and he was hurting, and his friend only wanted to lecture him, like he didn’t understand the point of the test. 

“Jim, now you hold on a god damn minute,” Bones insisted and grabbed his arm in a painfully tight hold. 

“Fuck off, Bones. I know what the point of the test is. I know what the lesson is. I reject the whole fucking thing! It’s stupid.” 

Bones sighed. “Jim, you can’t reject it.” 

“I can and I do.” 

He pulled free and this time Bones didn’t stop him as he crawled into bed with the intent of never resurfacing. 

He managed to stay there through half his classes the next day. He’d had nightmares of things he had managed to ignore for at least a couple years now. When Bones shook him awake, Jim was wild eyed and actually hit him, pinning him to the floor. His friend actually looked scared and when Jim’s senses came back, he threw himself onto his ass, scooting away. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Bones. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

This time Bones seemed to really see him and damn if that wasn’t the opposite of what Jim wanted right now. “…Jim? What’s going on?” 

He shook his head. “I should get to class.” 

“You already missed our xenobiology class,” Bones said gently. 

“Yeah, and I never pay attention to that windbag who teaches ethics, so it’ll barely be like I’m there anyway.” 

Bones hesitated. He wanted to argue, but he seemed to understand that it wasn’t going to get him anywhere. For the first time, Jim was afraid of losing Bones. And then he realized. “That thing about the choice. Was that you?” 

Bones held up his hands. “I have nothing to do with that test, Jim.” 

“Then you told someone about it.” 

Bones shook his head. “Uhura has nothing to do with the test either.” 

“Why the fuck are you telling my personal life to Uhura?” 

“Your personal life? Jim, you were throwing out drunken hypotheticals to try to prove there was no such thing as a no-win scenario. And Uhura’s my friend. Just because you make a terrible first impression-“

“Please get out of my room,” Jim said coldly. He knew Bones hadn’t meant any harm, but it didn’t matter. Jim was harmed. Jim was in agony. He could tell himself it wasn’t real until the world ended, but it didn’t matter. It felt real. It took him right back to Tarsus, to the cells and dead bodies and torture. To Kodos and his obsession with proving that anyone would make the same choices he had. 

“Jim…”

“Bones, I need to get dressed and go to class,” he gritted out. 

“It’s just a coincidence,” he told Jim. “I’m worried about you, kid. That’s all.” 

“Great,” Jim grumbled and turned his back on Bones, determined to ignore him until he went away. He put on his uniform and put a comb through his hair. He looked sort of put-together, but there was nothing he could do for the dark circles under his eyes. 

Thankfully his friend didn’t say anything as he passed through the common area of the apartment and went to class. Jim settled into the back of the room and pulled out his PADD to proceed to ignore the professor- until the professor spoke. They had a guest lecturer today: the Vulcan. 

“I am Spock,” the Vulcan greeted, “A graduate of Starfleet Academy, sciences division. Professor Fuller could not be present today, so I will be delivering your lesson. As you are all in your second year ethics course, you will have completed the Kobayashi Maru. Today’s lesson is very relevant to this task as it also deals with no-win scenarios and situations in which the needs of the many must outweigh the needs of the few. We will be discussing the most notorious, and possibly most appropriate example of no-win scenarios: the massacre on Tarsus IV.” 

Jim’s glare was immediately fixed on the Vulcan up front and their eyes met. Had that been directed at him? The Vulcan continued to meet his gaze as he said, “In many situations, we must make difficult choices as Starfleet officers. It is not always possible to achieve a perfect success and so we must measure in what we have accomplished rather than what we have not.” 

A couple of cadets looked back. Many seemed to have noticed that he was the focus of this lecture and a few even laughed quietly. He was a joke. Jim was the joke that couldn’t let go. Well, he’d show them. He’d show all of them. 

Tearing his eyes away from the Vulcan’s, he opened up his school email and immediately sent off his request to retake the simulation next semester. No one could say he was not determined. 

“We can all agree the tragedy on Tarsus IV was unparalleled,” Spock went on. “But was it justified?” 

“No,” Jim said, and this time the majority of the class turned to him. He didn’t care. This pointy-eared bastard was not going to get away with lecturing that it was okay to kill four thousand people without even a certainty on how long it would take aid to arrive. 

“Perhaps you would like to address the parameters of the situation before making a conclusion?” Spock offered to him. 

“I know the parameters,” Jim insisted. “Everyone in this room knows the parameters. Governor Kodos killed four thousand people- adults and kids alike- without even knowing how long aid would take to arrive.” 

An eyebrow rose. “Precisely. He did not know how long aid would take to arrive. That aid was delayed. While what he did is generally considered cruel, it did save the lives of the other four thousand colonists.” 

“Did it?” Jim countered. “The population of the Tarsus colony was almost entirely humanoid- species which could just about all survive on limited food for months. The majority of what happened on that planet is classified, so how do you know you’re getting the full story? Could something else have happened there? Was there something else that happened? Some other bit of information which made his actions unjustifiable?” 

Spock only raised his eyebrow again and Jim’s heart ached for the one he lost. “I do believe conspiracy theories can be addressed in a different conversation. In this class, we are here to discuss the ethics of the situation within the parameters we have available.” 

“If the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” Jim insisted, “then why would it be justified to kill half the population in order for the few to survive?” 

“Your question is built upon a faulty premise,” the Vulcan informed him. “You are viewing the many as the population of the colony, when in fact the many is everyone who could benefit from what had been learned. The few are the portion of the population who were sacrificed-“

“For more valued members of society,” Jim interrupted, his voice cold. The classroom was tense. They’d all heard the recordings of Kodos’ speech growing up. Even if they could see the logic in the situation, they agreed with Jim in their hearts. “Only, who determines who is more valuable than anyone else? What qualified Governor Kodos to make those choices?” 

“Indeed, his methods were flawed,” the Vulcan replied as if he could not sense any of the awkwardness in the room. Maybe he couldn’t. He actually seemed to be enjoying the discourse. “However, his results are indisputable. The majority of the survivors made it off the planet.” 

“And, if I recall, many suffer deep psychological issues and some have even taken their own lives.” 

“As would the entire populace,” Spock stated. “The rations were gone by the time the Federation arrived with aid. The survivors had gone without food for almost a week. Most were in need of immediate medical care. Had the food been distributed among twice as many, all of the colonists would surely have starved to death before Starfleet’s arrival.” 

They weren’t out of supplies. Jim knew this for a fact, but he couldn’t argue with the official Starfleet story. The Vulcan seemed to be waiting for his response as if he was enjoying the interaction, but Jim had no intent of giving him the satisfaction. “If you can’t understand why it was wrong to immediately sacrifice half the population, then I can’t help you and I’ll stop wasting everyone’s time. Fail me if you want. There’s always another choice. Always.” 

Jim stood and walked out with his PADD to an underscore of murmurs. 

“Would anyone else like to add something?” the Vulcan encouraged just before the door shut behind Jim. 

Bones walked in to find Jim drinking again. He reached wordlessly for the bottle, but Jim hugged it to himself. He didn’t look at the man before it finally tumbled out of his mouth. “I was on Tarsus IV.” 

His friend’s eyes widened as the information hit him. Whatever he’d been expecting, that wasn’t it. Jim could see the pieces falling into place in his friend’s mind and a spike of fear went through him. Was this too much? Thankfully, Bones made his decision quickly. He didn’t say anything, just took the seat next to Jim and grabbed the bottle, taking a swig before passing it back. Jim let out a watery chuckle and nodded. “Uhura better not hear about this one.” 

Finally. Finally, he wasn’t alone. 


	4. Chapter 4

Spock’s interest in the cadet who kept trying to beat his simulation was only increased the more he heard about him. Even his latest attempt at the Kobayashi Maru was interesting. Some cadets who were unfamiliar with Klingon culture had attempted to negotiate a surrender or even a trade. Not only did Cadet Kirk attempt to trick them with a false surrender, but he refused Nyota’s tradeoff. Somehow, he did not think it was about “winning” as Nyota hypothesized.

So Spock did more research, and that only fascinated him more. Kirk had been arrested multiple times, though he had never done any real time. He had been kidnapped as a child, though there was no information on what had happened to the abductors. Spock watched a few holovids from the time and they seemed to simply forget that there had been someone who took the young man in the first place. It seemed as if Cadet Kirk might move past the traumatic experience- he even won some sort of academic competition where he’d utilized shielding technology to control the amount of rain and sunlight crops received- but within a year, he’d had his first arrest. 

Cadet Kirk clearly had not suffered many consequences in his life, Spock reasoned. Even something life threatening like an abduction had left him with no physical trauma. His arrests never resulted in more than a slap on the wrist. Perhaps this was due to his father’s heroic status. Spock could not help but wonder if the cadet harbored some secret resentment toward his father for not finding another solution. Was this what lied under his desire to take and retake the simulation until he proved that no sacrifices had to be made? 

Spock resolved to observe the cadet more closely, asking to teach his ethics class the day after his second attempt at the simulation. It became clear immediately that Tarsus IV was a subject about which the Cadet was both well-informed and passionate. This would explain the inspiration for his winning project, Spock decided. A child obsessed with a farming catastrophe would seek to improve farming. 

Unfortunately, Spock pushed too far during the class. The cadet snapped, hard. 

He’d weighed the words carefully over the semester, and it hadn’t been lost on him that the request to retake the test had come in the middle of his lecture. Cadet Kirk spoke passionately about the populace of Tarsus IV. Spock entertained at least one theory that he had known someone on the planet. Perhaps the t’hy’la for whom he had first mistaken Spock. Though he disliked it, Spock also posited that it could have been possible for Kirk to have been on the planet. He would have been young, and it would mean that his talk of classified information and conspiracy theories would have some merit. The survivors list was, after all, classified along with the rest of it. Spock found himself very uncomfortable with this possibility, so he stuck with the preferred theory that Cadet Kirk cared too much. Tarsus IV was classified because Starfleet did not wish for the fungus which had killed the crops to be available for weaponization. The cadet could care about fictional beings in a simulation so much that he seemed determined to save them even though it was not possible. Spock had reviewed some of the footage of Kirk’s attempts and, with his understanding of human emotions and facial expressions, he was convinced that the simulation was real to the cadet and so were the people he could not save. 

Of course, Spock confided none of this in anyone. He was not worried about the cadet’s mental capabilities. He demonstrated a conscious differentiation between reality and fiction. There were moments, however. Spock could sense genuine distress from him. This was, of course, the point of the exercise. The other point was to accept that sometimes nothing can be done. 

Spock wanted to help. 

He continued to monitor Kirk’s studies and did not fail him for walking out as Uhura suggested. His logic was sound, though Spock disagreed with his interpretation. He clearly had a firm grasp on the situation. His values, his _ethics_ , were simply different from Spock’s own. Ethics, contrary to the concept of having a class on them, could not truly be taught. The cadet had strong morals, a profound ingenuity, and a deep compassion that would help him as a captain if only he knew when to back down. 

Spock made a point to observe his next trial as well. 

He was disappointed. 

This version of the cadet was nothing like the man Spock had previously interacted with. He was the _pig_ Uhura had always described. He was overconfident. He did not even appear to be taking the simulation seriously this time. When the sequence shut down and rebooted, Spock understood. Some kind of cheating was occurring. Cadet Kirk beat the simulation and rescued all survivors. 

“How the hell did that kid beat your simulation?” 

“I do not know,” Spock replied truthfully. He was, however, going to find out. 

It took him two days to find the hole Cadet Kirk had made in his code. If Spock were not so… no, he was not angry. Vulcans did not feel anger. He was dissatisfied that such a promising young cadet had so distantly missed the point of the simulation as to completely undermine the entire exercise. Regardless, if he were not so… dissatisfied… he would be impressed. If only the cadet would use his considerable intelligence for good. 

He sat, stiffer than usual at the cadet’s hearing and took great satisfaction in the look of shock on his face when Kirk realized who had programmed the simulation itself. 

He made sure to get a dig in about Kirk’s father, but it didn’t land. Not the way he had intended. The cadet seemed determined to see his remarks as a personal slight rather than the suggestion that perhaps he was compromised by his own personal history. 

_Isn’t the test itself a cheat?_

The words rang in his head as the emergency situation was announced, as he watched his captain go into a dangerous situation, leaving him in charge, as his planet was destroyed. 

Spock hated the cadet in that moment, though he refused to let it show. He had him sent to the planet so that he could not be provoked in front of the crew. There was nothing he could have done to save his planet (or his mother, whispered a traitorous voice in the back of his head) and Cadet Kirk’s insistence that it was always possible in some way wormed its way into him, splintering his logic. 

This was why they had the Kobayashi Maru. Captains were no good if they did not know when to bend so they would not break. 

When Kirk made it back to the ship, Spock bent. He bent and he bent but he could not bend far enough when Kirk brought up his mother. She had always been his weakness. All the primal instincts of his Vulcan ancestors rushed forth and he only had one thought: kill. 

There was a certain rush in the violence, and he actually felt a thrill at the look of helpless terror in the cadet’s face as he finally realized he’d overstepped, as he realized there was nothing he could do to save himself from Spock. 

With horror, Spock released him. He could not understand his loss of control. He’d nearly killed this cadet. And enjoyed it. “I am emotionally compromised,” he finally admitted and excused himself, knowing Kirk would make himself captain. 

Nyota followed him into the turbolift, ignoring her acting captain’s orders to stay and he gave her a lost look. She answered with kisses to his face, each one a blossom of love and support that tingled in his katra. “I lost control,” he admitted and felt his chest shake with tears he refused to release. 

Her arms wrapped around him and he held her close, burying his nose in her hair. “I grieve with thee,” she whispered to him. He could feel it in her touch and was grateful. 

“Thank you.” 

“Let’s go somewhere,” she suggested. 

He shook his head. “I simply need a moment to compose myself. I do not wish to impede the function of this ship.” 

“Spock…”

“There is no time to grieve,” Spock insisted. “I will rejoin you on the bridge shortly.” 

Nyota gave him a sad nod and a kiss on the cheek before heading back to the turbolift. Spock watched her go for a moment before he realized the lack of logic in standing, unseeing, in the hallway for anyone to see. He headed back to his quarters, the first officer’s quarters, and sat. He breathed in, deep, and attempted to breach the first layer of meditation. 


	5. Chapter 5

Jim walked unsteadily to the front of the tribunal. He’d been so determined to save those people that he’d cheated and he knew it. For some reason, it hadn’t occurred to him that they would care. He’d taken the test twice by their rules. They had plenty to grade him on. Was his third attempt anything other than a hobby in their eyes? 

The full weight of it all hit him as he was addressed. What if they kicked him out? What if he never got his ship, his crew? What if Bones left him behind, CMO to some other, less fun captain? What if that captain got a bunch of people killed because he accepted a situation as unbeatable? What if Jim could have saved them? 

He knew his face betrayed his emotional state, but his voice was mostly steady. “I believe I have the right to face my accuser directly.” 

Following Komack’s gaze, Jim saw that Vulcan bastard stand. Of course. Of fucking course it was that Kodos-loving green asshole. His hands clenched into fists, but otherwise he remained calm as Komack revealed that Spock was a _distinguished_ graduate and that the simulation was his sadistic demon baby. 

At least he had his anger. “Let me ask you something I think we all know the answer to,” Jim bit out. “Isn’t the test itself a cheat?” 

“Your supposition precludes the existence of a no-win scenario,” Spock stated calmly. 

“I don’t believe in no-win scenarios,” Jim said, laying on the charm for the committee. They seemed unmoved. Well, so was he. Why the fuck had Pike recruited him for this? This was the attitude that Starfleet had lost, he’d told Jim. Well, now was the time to stick up for his recruit, to help him bring it back. 

“Then you have also failed to grasp the lesson inherent in the simulation.” 

Jim turned to the Vulcan. “Enlighten me,” he deadpanned. 

The point was something Jim had already divined. Everyone and their mother seemed to be telling him how it was unwinnable and that was the point. He was about to lay into that when the Vulcan got too personal. “I of all people?” he repeated with steel in his voice. 

“Your father…”

Jim tuned out the rest. Was this what Starfleet had become? Why was he being humiliated in front of all these people? “I think you just don’t like that I beat your little game.” 

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow at him when he heard the word game and Jim felt a flame of victory building in his chest. He was about to say something else when Komack told them all to report to their ships. 

The list of assignments went on for what felt like forever. They got through the J’s and suddenly they were on the L’s. Jim waited, tense as he hoped that maybe it was just out of order. How could he not have an assignment? 

“You’re on academic probation until the board rules,” he was informed and suddenly he was reeling. 

Bones said something reassuring and Jim nodded because he wasn’t such a shitty friend as to demand his own needs surpass Bones’ career. Still, as Bones walked away Jim knew it was over. He’d miscalculated again. He’d let someone in and, predictably, he’d lost them. Bones was going to board that starship, the flagship, the ship that should have been Jim’s, and Jim was going to be shipped back to fucking Riverside where people wanted him even less than they already did. 

And then, suddenly, Bones was coming back. Jim just stared at him as he said, “Come on. I’m going to regret this.” 

If Jim thought he’d been sick before, it was a whole other level of illness that Bones shot into his neck. He felt great. Bones was hauling him on board the ship, sticking up for him, and Jim had never loved someone like he loved his best friend in that moment. Maybe he would be okay after all. 

“I’m gonna throw up on you,” he threatened. He tried to make it menacing, but he felt too sick. 

“Jim, you gotta see this.” 

Jim was about to say he was going to throw up on whatever it was, but then he _looked_. His eyes welled as he looked at those beautiful ships, as it hit him that he had made it. He was in space. He was about to be on board a starship. He wasn’t the captain, but this was enough for now. 

When they got to medical, Bones knocked him out. 

Jim had fever dreams of Pike. The man had talked about Jim as if he had potential. He’d seen heroic qualities where most people just saw trouble. He valued Jim where most people just wanted to control him and lock him up. After getting to the Academy, Jim looked the captain up. He found the dissertation that Pike had written on his father and, for the first time, Jim felt like he knew something about the man. Pike was right. Somehow Jim had gotten a lot of his father without ever knowing him. At least the way Pike wrote it, he had. Jim had spent too much time being told how disappointed his father would be to find out his son had grown up to be a low life. 

Jim had often wondered if he’d have done what his father had. Now? Sure. He had no one to need him, not really. If there was one thing Jim couldn’t tolerate, however, it was people giving their lives so that he could have something else to grieve over. Jim couldn’t see another way, though. He couldn’t figure out a better solution than his father had. It was odd that a stranger’s scholarly writing would be the thing that finally convinced him to forgive George Kirk. 

_A lightning storm in space…_

No, that wasn’t right. Whose voice was that? Jim struggled for clarity, hearing about planet Vulcan and he thought of Ty, and then he thought of that bastard. Finally, he shot up in the bed he’d been left in, repeating the words. His head was so fuzzy, but his purpose was not. Jim rushed to the screen, replaying it to make sure he’d heard what he thought he had. 

“Stop it!” he shouted at Bones and the doctor gave him another injection. His hands didn’t really want to work, but he could walk and he had to. How was he going to explain this? “Romulans, Bones. It has to be Romulans. The same thing happened, Bones. The lightning storm.” 

Bones gave him an odd look. “Romulans?” 

Jim nodded before swaying unsteadily. “Bones, you have to get me to Captain Pike.” 

His friend glowered at him and looked ready to say no, but then grudgingly admitted, “Uhura was telling me about a Romulan transmission that she picked up…”

“Bones!” Jim urged and he headed for the door. 

“Jim, that’s my office!” 

Jim turned around and walked toward the other door as if he’d meant to do it all along. Bones led him to the communications area, insisting they needed Uhura to back up Jim’s theory and he grudgingly agreed. She was horrified by his hands and his tongue swelled up before he could get all the words out, but they managed. 

Jim actually passed out in the turbolift and he came to with another throbbing injection site and Uhura giving him a look that said she couldn’t decide if she was worried or disgusted. His tongue felt normal again, at least. 

“Good god, man, I haven’t seen a reaction this bad since med school,” Bones muttered. 

“Maybe if you’d read my file before pretending to be my doctor, you’d know I’m allergic to almost everything,” Jim threw back. 

“I got you on the ship, didn’t I?!” 

“Boys!” Uhura interjected just in time for the lift to open up onto the bridge. 

“Captain Pike!” Jim shouted, stumbling across the bridge. Immediately, that Vulcan blocked his path, demanding to know how he had gotten on the ship. “Stop the ship! Sir, stop the ship!” 

It took quite a bit of convincing, but Pike agreed and (shockingly) so did the Vulcan. 

It was an honor when Pike chose him for the mission to shut down the drill, one that had Jim reeling when their third didn’t make it. His heart was pounding and not in a good way as they fought for their lives and he was forced to kill or be killed again. It wasn’t the drugs Bones had pumped him full of that had Jim on edge when he got back to the bridge and found that Pike had predictably not returned. 

The planet went and Jim didn’t know what to do. He was shaken and couldn’t imagine how Spock felt. Jim knew the look on his face when he rematerialized and the mother he’d been reaching to save was not with him. He’d felt that loss with Ty. 

So when Spock wanted to rendez-vous with Starfleet as Pike ordered, Jim did not understand. He wasn’t going to allow Spock to do it, captain or not. They weren’t going to lose Pike, too. Not the man who had somehow tricked Jim into turning his life around. Not even that bastard Spock. No one else. Jim was not losing anyone else today. 

So the Vulcan marooned him. The escape pod told him to stay put and he made a rude gesture at it as he disobeyed. Unfortunately for Jim, there were some terrifying creatures on this icy hell of a planet. He barely escaped with his life. 

“Jim Kirk.” 

Jim turned to his rescuer. He was an old Vulcan and Jim had no idea who he was. “That’s… me. Uh… you?” 

“I am and always shall be your friend.” 

“Okay,” Jim said, his voice climbing in pitch. What kind of planet was this? 

“Why are you on this planet, Jim?” 

“Because that Vulcan bastard- no offense- marooned me down here.” 

“None taken,” his rescuer replied. “To which Vulcan bastard do you refer?” 

“Spock,” Jim spat hatefully. 

An eyebrow rose. “You do not get along with your first officer?” 

“First officer?” Jim echoed. “He’s been promoted to Captain.” 

“You are not the captain?” 

“Look, uh… you… I’m just a cadet. I mean, I guess I’m first officer now, or I was for about two seconds before that pointy-eared- Before I got sent down here.” 

The old man seemed to think about this for a moment as if it were distasteful to him. “Jim, I know you have only just met me, but I would like to form a mind-meld with you. There is much to convey and no time to do it.” 

“A what?” Jim repeated. 

“I would be joining our minds to more efficiently communicate our situation. It is also the only way I think you will believe me when I tell you that I am Spock, and that I come from a future where you and I are very good friends.” 

Jim stared at him, slack-jawed. “Look, ‘Spock’,” he began, drawing air quotes around the name, “I don’t know how long you’ve been marooned down here-“

“Jim,” he interrupted, and the earnest look on his face was what really stopped the cadet. “I do not know what has gone wrong in this timeline, though I suspect I am at least partly to blame. I wish to fix what I have broken, as best as I can.” 

“No offense, but that guy up there? He’s impossible. There’s no way he and I are friends in any reality.” 

“Perhaps not,” the old man assuaged. “Will you allow me to show you?” 

Maybe Jim should have had misgivings, but he nodded anyway. He was too curious, too desperate for help, and there was something about the man that he wanted to trust. He looked at Jim like the cadet had put the stars in the sky. Fingers found familiar points on his face and Jim felt his heart start to pound with the memory of the last Vulcan who had done the same thing. 

“There is no need to be nervous,” Spock assured him. 

“This isn’t my first rodeo,” was all Jim would give. 

Spock (and Jim still wasn’t sure why he was even entertaining the notion that this might be some calmed-down version of the Vulcan currently leading the Enterprise) inclined his head and intoned, “My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts…”

Immediately, Jim was bombarded with images. Spock, and he was Spock, was from the future. He taunted Jim with images of himself with an older version of George Kirk, posing proudly in Academy graduation robes, of sitting in the captain’s chair, of playing chess with his first officer, the pair of them going on away missions with an older, just as charmingly grumpy Bones. Then it turned darker, and Jim saw the familiar face of Nero. He saw worlds destroyed and he felt loss as big as any he ever felt before they finally parted and Jim was left gasping. 

Spock apologized and said something about emotional transference. “I’ve had worse,” Jim joked, and it helped him come back a little. He looked up at the older Spock. He could see it now, those eyes were older but they were Spock’s eyes. There was also a kindness that reminded him of Ty, and Jim’s heart ached again. The years had not healed him the way people claimed time did. “My father lived in your future,” he realized. “He lived and I never got sent to that planet.” 

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Which planet?” 

Jim looked away. “There was a Terran colony. The food rotted and the Governor had a lot of people executed. It was…”

“Tarsus IV,” Spock nodded. “My Jim Kirk was also there for the massacre. It took many years for him to come to terms with the fact that he survived when so many others did not.” 

Jim felt small now. He wondered if this other version of himself had told Spock what it had been like. “Did he ever tell you about it?” 

Spock shook his head. “The experience was painful for him. He did, however, allow me to share a mind-meld with him. I am aware of the extreme hunger he suffered, and of the good friends he saw starve.” 

“What about… the rest?” Jim asked in a tight voice. This was his chance to be seen. He didn’t know how badly he wanted someone to tell him he’d done well, that he had won that no-win situation, that he wasn’t going to be broken forever. 

“Please elaborate.” 

Jim swallowed. “He didn’t show you the rest.” 

“I saw all of it, Jim. From the day he escaped the room where he was sentenced to die, through the uprising that killed the governor, to the day Starfleet finally arrived.” 

“Uprising,” Jim repeated. “There was no uprising.” 

Spock’s head tilted slowly. “Then it seems I cannot give you the answer you are looking for.” 

“No,” Jim agreed sadly. There wasn’t anything else to say. “We should get going. The base isn’t too far.” Spock touched Jim’s arm. “Jim, whatever you endured on that planet will pass. You may not yet be captain, but you will be. You are still on track to become the great captain with whom I had the sincere pleasure of serving with. I have every confidence that you will come out the victor.” 

Somehow, it helped. “Thanks.” 

Spock spoke as they walked and Jim didn’t get every word, but he got enough. Jim had to get his Spock to display the fact that he was emotionally compromised so that he could take over the Enterprise. Somehow, this future version of Spock would get him back on board, and he was not allowed to reveal to his own Spock that he was under orders from… Spock. 

Jim had a headache and he was reasonably sure it was neither the diseases Bones had stabbed him with nor the mind-meld with Old Spock. Other Spock? Better Spock? Less-of-a-dick Spock? 

Jim would have to work on the name. 

Of course Nice Spock would know the engineer banished to this hellish freezer. Of course he too was supposed to be part of Jim’s winning crew. What really impressed Jim was that apparently the man had figured out an equation for transwarp beaming and Spock easily supplied it. 

“Isn’t that cheating?” Jim teased him as Scotty prepared the equation at the console. Spock didn’t seem to get the joke. 

“The Jim Kirk I know was in favor of cheating when it saved lives.” 

Jim beamed. “I am. It’s the Spock I know who isn’t.” 

“You had a profound effect on me,” Spock informed him. “And, before it goes to your head, I also had a profound impact on you. My Captain Kirk and I balanced each other. That is why we worked so well together, and how we cultivated a friendship that defined us both in ways you can never imagine.” 

Jim felt warm at the idea. If only it wasn’t Spock, though. He sighed as Scotty edged in. “She’s all ready for us!” 

Jim opened his mouth to object and decided not to bother. If Scotty was part of the dream team, he deserved to beam onboard as much as Jim did. They barely made it, but they made it. Both of them were thrilled and it wasn’t until they were brought before Acting Captain Spock that Jim remembered why he was here. 

Jim Kirk excelled at hurting people. He had been hurt enough in his life to know exactly where each person’s jugular was, and he especially knew how to find it if he didn’t. Spock’s planet was not enough, though it had hit him hard. Jim knew as much from the mind-meld he’d shared with Reasonable Spock. 

Jim thought of Ty in this moment, in how he’d been, how much he’d cared for Jim- enough to take his own life. Spock was half-human, and Jim knew it was on his mother’s side. He knew Vulcans spurned emotions. Even Ty had been drawn to Jim’s ability to distance himself from them. 

So he brought Spock’s mother up. It was instantly obvious that Jim had found what it would take. He went for the kill, hating himself, feeling the hurt as if he had been his own target rather than Spock. 

There was no time to dwell as the Vulcan charged him, grabbing his throat and crashing with him into a console. Fear rose in him, choking him as much as Spock’s hand. The strangling grip, the hips pressing him back, the warmth of another body pinning him so that he couldn’t escape. Jim struggled against the flashback, struggled to remind himself that this wasn’t Tarsus, that someone would incapacitate the Vulcan before he could kill Jim, that he definitely wasn’t going to rape his first officer right in the middle of the bridge. 

Jim’s heart would have no logic, however, and no one seemed willing to physically intercede. He had been cruel, he knew that. Maybe he deserved this. 

Jim collapsed, coughing roughly as Spock finally released him and excused himself from the bridge. His heart was racing out of control and he couldn’t quite breathe. He heard Sulu tell them that Pike had made him first officer, and he stood unsteadily. “Reverse our heading immediately and return to the Vulcan system. We’re rescuing our captain. Bones.” 

His voice was unsteady, but hopefully they would all put it off as the fact that he’d just been nearly strangled. Bones followed him to the ready-room and Jim’s knees immediately gave out. That order was all he had in him. “Jesus, Jim.” 

“Tell me you have a mild sedative on you,” he begged pathetically. 

Instead of complying, Bones started scanning him and his eyes widened. “Good God, man, your heart rate’s through the roof.” 

“So can you please give me something to calm me the fuck down?” Jim demanded. 

Bones shot him up with something that started working almost immediately and Jim remained on the floor, taking deep breaths. He knew Bones was still scanning him and monitoring, but he was blessedly silent as Jim composed himself. “Sorry,” he finally rasped out. Spock had really done a number on his throat. “It’s been a few years since I had a flashback, and now seemed as good a time as any.” 

Taking the hand his doctor offered, Jim relocated to a chair across from him. “Jim, are you sure you can handle this?” 

“Have to, don’t I?” he replied with a manic edge to his voice. “I can do it, Bones. I’m just a little rattled at the moment. It was being physically attacked. I wasn’t ready for that kind of… reaction.” 

“Well, you sure as hell did your best to get it out of him.” 

Jim nodded. “I can’t explain, but I had to take over the ship.” 

“You had to commit mutiny.” 

“I had to show that our captain was unable to lead,” Jim insisted. “That his judgment was compromised. Bones, he just lost his entire world, and I’m not just talking about the planet.” 

“Kind of you to taunt him with it.” 

“Not like I enjoyed it,” he sighed. “I really hope I know what I’m doing.” 

“Me too,” Bones agreed and Jim rolled his eyes. “What? I’m not going to sugar-coat it, kid.” 

“One of your many admirable qualities, Bones.” 

“Just make sure I don’t have to remove you for being emotionally compromised, too.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some torture/gore in this one because Nero's a little Extra, so shut your eyes if you need to.

Spock opened his eyes, feeling much more calm now that he’d had a moment to organize his thoughts. He had been unable to properly meditate, but that was a concern for later. For now, he had successfully managed to lock his thoughts away so that they could not interfere with his performance. He also had the opportunity to remind himself that Captain Pike knew Cadet Kirk on a nearly personal level and had many years of experience determining who could be molded and groomed for command. The fact that he appointed the cadet to Spock’s first officer position so readily spoke very highly of Cadet Kirk, and Spock was not so derelict of duty that he would refuse his support of their new acting captain. 

He still thought Kirk was making an illogical decision to disobey their orders. 

Silence fell when he returned to the bridge. Kirk looked to him with an unspoken question on his (pale?) face. Spock would have to reexamine this later. “Captain,” he greeted in an unquestionable display of support. “I have taken a sufficient amount of personal time to recover and would like to request reinstatement as First Officer.” 

Kirk eyed him in a way that almost reminded Spock of Captain Pike. Something in the cadet’s- no, the Captain’s- eyes seemed more perceptive than average human’s. Perhaps Spock had underestimated his acting captain. Perhaps the act of cheating on the simulation was not an act of arrogance as it appeared, but one of desperation.

“We’re lucky to have you, Commander Spock,” Kirk agreed. 

Spock took his customary position to the captain’s right and immediately began to review the data at hand. He speedily caught up on what he had missed, and began to extrapolate potential courses of action. Knowing what little he did know of James Kirk, Spock fully expected his course of action to be both risky and illogical. What concerned him was how many regulations the man intended to break. If he was willing to engage in academic dishonesty in order to pass a test not meant to be passed, what would he do out here, in the real world? 

They dropped out of warp behind a small planetoid and Spock refused to let his shock register on his face when he realized how calculated this move had been. As a cadet, Kirk had proved to be a creative strategist, so Spock could not even conclude if this had been his plan or a suggestion from a crew member. 

Readings from the Romulan ship began to scroll across his PADD and he reviewed them as best as he could. “The Romulan vessel is shielded, Captain. We will be unable to retrieve Captain Pike unless they are lowered.” 

“Please note my total lack of surprise, Commander,” the Captain quipped. “Uhura, hail them.” 

“Captain-“ Spock interjected. 

“Tell them we’re here for our captain,” Jim cut him off. 

Spock breathed. This was foolish, illogical, utterly removed from reason and reality. It was everything Kirk had proved to be over the past three years at the Academy. The Romulan captain Nero appeared on screen and Spock somehow managed to sit even straighter as Kirk pulled his usual stunt where he tried to impose his own rules onto reality. 

“Captain Nero!” he greeted the Romulan as if they were old friends. “Nice to see you again, really nice. Can’t help but notice you have your shields up. I get it, I do, safety first and all, but it’s making it a little hard for us to retrieve our captain who you’ve been so kind as to entertain for a little while.” 

“Captain Kirk,” the Romulan acknowledged. “I have read of your exploits, but nowhere was it indicated that you suffered a brain injury.” 

Kirk laughed, still smiling. “You’re funny, Nero. I like you. But, and I hate to bring up business, my crew is a little antsy about their captain. Starfleet has this thing where they like to keep our captains on their own ships. So, if you allow us to beam him back… Well, we won’t be forced to destroy you and your entire ship.” 

Spock had taken the opportunity to access Captain Pike’s bioreadings as Kirk spoke. He looked distinctly unwell and Spock was certain his vital readings were indicative of torture. It was imperative that they rescue him immediately. 

“Spock.” 

The Vulcan looked up immediately and locked eyes with the Romulan who’d drawn his attention. 

“I hope you appreciated my gift,” Nero sneered. “I’ve been planning it for a long, long time. I had to make sure it was perfect. No one deserves it like you do.” 

Spock was careful not to respond. “Then you may perhaps find it to be greedy for me to ask one last gift. I must agree with Captain Kirk. We would like your assistance in facilitating the safe return of our Captain Pike.” 

“Come and get him,” Nero spat. 

The screen went blank and was almost immediately followed by Chekov’s voice: “Captain, their shields are down!” 

Spock immediately grabbed Kirk’s arm. “Captain, I request that if you intend to walk into what is so obviously a trap, that you allow me to accompany you.” 

Kirk looked back at him and Spock registered a brief moment of panic that he might have missed if he had not been touching the man. The Vulcan released his human captain’s arm and realized his outburst had affected the man much more than he was letting on. Was Kirk afraid of him? Spock forced his shame to the back of his mind and focused on the task at hand. 

“Kirk to transporter room. Mr. Scott?” 

“Aye, captain,” came the reply. 

“Prepare to beam myself and Mr. Spock aboard the Romulan ship.” 

Spock nodded shortly to his superior officer and they both got up to arm themselves and prepare for what would almost certainly be a fight. “Captain, may I suggest that you allow me to determine our course while on the ship? Due to the similar heritage of Romulans and Vulcans, I will be better able to navigate.” 

Kirk only thought for a moment before nodding. “Our primary mission is to rescue Captain Pike,” he stated. “If you are able to reach him, have Mr. Scott use your location to beam the both of you back. Pike is our primary concern.” 

Spock nodded, though the phrasing made him uncomfortable. These were the words of someone planning to take a risk they did not expect to work out in their own favor. 

Even worse was when they materialized on the bridge of Nero’s ship instead of in the cargo bay. Spock was so thrown by this realization that he would have been caught by the phaser fire had Kirk not shoved them both to the ground. Perhaps Kirk had been the better choice for captain. It was clear that he was at least better at being caught off guard, at being confronted with the illogical. 

Spock recovered quickly and began to return fire. 

“Spock!” 

He stunned another Romulan before turning to the voice. Nero had the tip of his phaser pressed to the head of Captain Kirk. Spock raised his own to the Romulan captain, trying not to acknowledge that they had been one man short of getting out of this situation. 

“Spock, remember your orders,” Kirk said and Spock could detect no hint of fear from the human. He thought back to the conversation in which Doctor McCoy had expressed his displeasure at Spock’s decision to eject Jim Kirk from the ship. Over the course of the dialogue, the doctor had referred to Kirk as a stallion, and Spock had pointed out that stallions must first be broken to achieve their potential. 

_”Oh, believe me,_ Captain. _That kid has been broken more times than should be possible, but he just keeps getting back up. It was a mistake to throw him away, and-“_

_“Doctor McCoy,” Spock interrupted. He had already decided to ignore the emphasis on his title- and obvious intentional slight. “I did not throw Cadet Kirk away. He was being insubordinate and disruptive. In order to continue with our mission, he needed to be temporarily relocated.”_

_“Spock,” the doctor said firmly. “All due respect, but Jim is never insubordinate without reason. I’m following your orders, but I would be a damn liar if I made any claim to agree with them.”_

It wasn’t that McCoy had so clearly laid out his loyalties to Captain Kirk that suddenly rang in Spock’s mind. It was the idea that James Kirk had apparently been broken “more times than should be possible.” Spock could see that now, in the hard lines of his face. Death was, to borrow from an old Earth idiom, knocking on Jim’s door, and he was no more alarmed than if a friend had come for tea. 

Still, Spock did have his orders. Though he, like McCoy, had misgivings with those orders he would obey them. Spock hurried out of the room, not lowering his weapon. The ship, once he was free of the bridge, was at least somewhat predictable and he found Captain Pike quickly. Stunning another four guards, Spock set to freeing his commanding officer. 

“Spock,” Pike acknowledged, but there was no smile there. “They have Earth’s defense codes.” 

Spock did not react. Whatever he had done to provoke Nero in another world, it must have been terrible. He could not imagine intentionally harming any form of life, but he must have in order to inspire such complete lust for vengeance that Nero would not only destroy his home planet of Vulcan but also his mother’s home planet. 

Once Pike was free, they were faced with another problem. His comm badge was nowhere to be found, and he could barely walk. Spock was under orders to get Captain Pike back to the Enterprise. “Spock to Enterprise,” he said, tapping the communicator. 

“Scotty here,” the man confirmed and Spock hoped he would not have to get used to that brogue. 

“I am placing my communicator on Captain Pike’s person. Please have him transported directly to sick bay.” 

“But, sir, we cannae beam you back without-“

“I know,” Spock interrupted. “Kirk has been taken hostage and I intend to retrieve him. You can use his communicator to lock onto our location once my mission is successful.” 

With another grumble of disapproval, Captain Pike faded in a golden shower of light. Spock hoped he had made the right decision. Vulcans did not disobey orders and he was only technically still following them in that he still intended to get off this ship. He simply had not left with Captain Pike. 

It struck the science officer as odd that he seemed to come across no other Romulan forces. It was as though the ship were undermanned and all its forces had been either with the enemy captain or Captain Pike. 

When Spock returned to the bridge, he found a sight which chilled him to his core. Kirk, bloody and conscious but unaware, with Nero standing over him. 

“Ah, Spock. Good of you to join us,” Nero greeted. He stomped on the Captain’s leg, eliciting a weak cry of pain as he turned to face the Vulcan. “You’re a bit early. I’d planned to torture him a bit more before I killed him in front of you.” 

Spock leveled his phaser at the Romulan and his voice was deadly as he demanded, “Step away from Captain Kirk or I will be forced to fire on you.” 

Nero actually laughed at him. “Computer, target all Vulcan life forms.” 

Spock’s eyes widened and he was forced to duck for cover as crude weapons began to fire from all corners of the bridge. They looked like recent additions. This was not a war ship. Spock had no time to think about the origin of the weapons, however, and he was forced to find an area where none of the four weapons could reach him. 

“Face it, Spock! You’ve lost!” Nero called out to him as he paced directionlessly. There was a manic note in his voice and Spock wondered just how far gone the man was. He knew the Romulan had been stranded since the Kelvin incident, and it showed. The years of waiting and ruminating on vengeance had taken a heavy toll. Spock wondered if anything could possibly sate a thirst which had been deprived for so long. “I’ve taken Vulcan, I’m about to take Earth, and now I’m going to take your precious Captain Kirk!” 

Precious? Spock did not know about that. He would certainly exhaust every opportunity to save the man, but James Kirk had no place in Spock’s heart. If Spock was honest, he still had more than a little distaste for the human whose disregard for his peers and mentors was so great that he would cheat on his exams and antagonize a superior officer. 

Another stomp, and another weak cry of pain forced Spock into action. This was a stalemate for Spock. He could not get to Nero or save Captain Kirk while these weapons were targeting him. The solution, therefore, was to take out the weapons. He nearly lost an eye trying to locate the first one, and it took three attempts to damage it enough to end its assault. 

“Give up, Spock!” Nero shouted, but this time he sounded uncertain. He could hear the sound of Nero dragging Kirk somewhere and the doors shut. He was trapped and his captain was now out of reach. Spock managed to take out the other three with increasing ease, sustaining only a minor injury when a phaser managed to graze his shoulder. 

Wasting no time, he hurried to the doors, attempting to override the lock. Nero’s voice came over the comms. “Your resistance only makes my triumph sweeter, Spock.” This time, the cry of pain affected Spock deeply. He felt physically ill, especially when the cry dissolved into pained and harsh breathing that was punctuated by whimpers. There were words as well, but Spock could not discern them. “Don’t worry, Spock. He can still survive that one. It takes humans much longer to die from gut wounds. Their hearts are higher up. I’ll make sure to wait until you’re here for that one.” 

Spock switched his phaser to kill and fired on the door’s control panel. He heard the grind and impact as it was released by the mechanism and strained loudly as he tried to open it manually. It scraped and creaked noisily as he pushed. His shoulder throbbed numbly in protest, but he managed to open it just enough to squeeze through. He took off running. 

“You’re getting warmer, Spock,” Nero informed him in a mockery of an old Earth game his mother had taught him. “No, not that way! Cold, Spock. Cold. Yes, there you are… warmer, warmer…”

“On fire!” Nero grinned as Spock finally found them. He then lit a rag on fire and held it to Captain Kirk’s side, eliciting more screams. 

This time, Spock could discern the words: “Door number one!” 

Spock did not hesitate. He killed the Romulan without a thought. “Captain.” 

Kirk turned to face him and did not quite manage to meet his gaze as his eyes would not refrain from rolling back into his head. “Door number one,” Kirk repeated. “Door number one.” 

Spock could not silence the sense of foreboding about the phrase, but he could ignore it. Hoisting the human to a standing position, Spock realized he would be unable to walk even with assistance. He picked up the young cadet-turned-captain and slung him over his uninjured shoulder and made his way toward the cargo bays. Kirk’s communicator was nowhere to be found, so they needed to find an alternate means of escape. For the first time since the man had cheated his test, Spock wished that he could take advantage of Kirk’s ingenuity. 

Instead, he found them a Romulan shuttle and managed to escape the ship. It was badly damaged and he could see areas that had barely been repaired. This ship had seen better days. Perhaps the Kelvin had been closer to success than the reports had indicated. 

It took some convincing to get the Enterprise to open its doors to the Romulan shuttle, especially without visual capabilities in its communications array, but finally they were on board. 

He carried the captain all the way to the nearest medical bay where Doctor McCoy took one look at James Kirk and his face hardened. He was not surprised to see that his friend had been injured, which led Spock to believe his recklessness was a constant reality. 

It was several hours before McCoy reappeared, looking exhausted and disillusioned. “Well, he’ll live,” the doctor grunted. “No thanks to- no, don’t worry, I know it was all him. Damn fool would chop off his own head if he thought it would right the wrongs of the universe.” 

“I do not believe it would be possible to-“

“I wasn’t being literal, Spock.” 

Spock hesitated, wondering if he had any right to ask the question that was on his mind. “Doctor, are you frequently prone to being so non-literal?” 

“What?” 

“I have been wondering about your statement earlier, that James Kirk has been broken.” 

McCoy gave him a hard look. “It’s his story to tell, and I only got the title, but yeah I was being literal, Spock.” 

“May I ask what that title might be?” 

The doctor sighed. “You can ask him, but leave me out of it. Especially if you intend to use it against him like you did that thing about the choices.” 

Spock stared in shock. “You are referring to his second attempt at the Kobayashi Maru simulation.” 

“Yeah, that one had him all twisted up for days. If you ask me, he cheated because he was angry. You changed the parameters first, you green-blooded… hobgoblin.” 

Spock was too taken aback by both the insult and the revelation to reply and McCoy took advantage of the opportunity to announce he was going to get some sleep. 

The first officer had many things to contemplate, but for now he needed to assure their safe return to the nearest starbase. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again with the Extra!Nero warnings.

Jim wasn’t scared, not even when Nero pulled the weapon on him. He had been tortured before. He knew how to endure pain of any kind. No, the pain did not scare him. The confession did. 

“I’ve done plenty of research on you and the ambassador, you know,” Nero informed Jim as he sliced a haphazard line across his chest. “Very close you were in my timeline. Federation history goes on and on about the famous camaraderie of Captain Kirk and his Vulcan first officer. He even died for you. That’s how important you are to him. That’s why I have done everything in my power to make you suffer, and to make sure he knows it.” 

Those words, that revelation, that Spock had died for him… Jim could not handle that. He resolved then and there to never let Spock get close to him. More pain came, but the real pain was in knowing that he had a true friend that he would never be able to make. Not unless he wanted to suffer another unimaginable loss. He did not. Jim would keep Spock at arm’s length. He would not allow the Vulcan to like him, and therefore there would be no reason to die for him. 

He played catatonic, waiting for an opportunity to get the drop on Nero. Jim had the advantage here. No one expected someone to think clearly under torture, and Romulans seemed to think humans were much more fragile than they actually were. Sure, humans were more fragile than Romulans, but Jim was more sturdy than most. He could take a lot. When Spock arrived armed, Jim sensed his chance, but Nero broke his leg and moved too far for Jim to get to him. The room erupted in phaser fire on Nero’s orders and Spock managed to get to cover. 

Jim continued to stare straight ahead, back to his original plan of finding the right moment to overpower Nero on his own. It became even more difficult as his torturer broke his other leg. The pain was starting to cloud his head so that he was only half-aware of being relocated. Was Spock okay? Was Nero going to kill Jim’s first officer? 

He was definitely going to kill Jim. 

At least then, Spock would have no one to die for. 

“Do you know what I find interesting?” Nero questioned Jim as he cut a few more lines into his belly. “Tarsus IV. The events on that planet- and, oh, I know they’re supposed to be classified but I’m quite resourceful, Kirk- should have broken you. You should not even be in my way right now. I should have been able to forward news articles to the ambassador of your death or your suicide or your downward spiral into delinquency, but can I? No! You somehow still managed to make it into Starfleet and find your stupid Vulcan.” 

He stopped to address Spock as he casually twirled the point of the knife on Jim’s gut, not quite breaking the skin, but definitely making Jim too nervous to pay attention to much else. He leaned forward, blocking Jim’s view. “But I guess anything worth doing is worth doing yourself.” 

Jim screamed in agony as the knife plunged into him and Nero _twisted_. This was more than torture. This was a lethal blow, even if it would take him some time to fully bleed out. Jim made embarrassing noises that he couldn’t quite contain as the pain consumed him and drained the energy from his muscles. He poured red strength onto the floor and begged the guards to listen to his pleas. He had chosen, he’d made a choice, they could stop now. 

“Door number one,” he whimpered. “Door number one.” 

Someone grabbed him, and his world went dark. 

As reality slowly faded back in, Jim realized he was no longer on a ship. He was in a Starfleet medical facility and Bones was standing over him. “That was some stunt you pulled, kid.” 

“You know me, I aim to impress,” Jim rasped through a lopsided grin. 

“You’ll be glad to hear the board ruled in your favor even though you weren’t there,” Bones informed him, but Jim could hear the disapproval. “They’re giving you the Enterprise, which is about the most foolhardy bit of nonsense I’ve heard in-“

“Bones?” the man stopped talking. Maybe he sensed the fear in Jim’s voice, or maybe it was just that it was one of his rants that he went on just because it felt right and not necessarily because he had anything he really wanted heard. “Is Pike okay?” 

“Aw, hell, Jim,” Bones realized. “Yes, he’s fine. Better than you, I’m thinking. He’s been promoted to Admiral. You’re not inheriting the ship from a dead man.” 

Jim nodded and shut his eyes in relief. “And… everyone else?” 

“Like I said, better than you. No casualties you didn’t already know about.” 

“Good,” Jim replied. 

His eyes startled back open when Bones touched his shoulder. “Now you listen here, Jim. If you’re going to make me your CMO like you kept talking about at the Academy-“

“Not even a question.” 

“Regardless. If I agree to that, you’re going to take better care of yourself because I can’t keep bringing you back from the brink of death like this all the time.” 

“Okay,” Jim agreed. “I’ll try not to get tortured by a Romulan who’s traveled back in time to get revenge for something Spock hasn’t done yet.” 

Bones only shook his head. “It better get less weird, kid. That’s all I have to say.” 

Jim smirked a little. “And you didn’t even have to meet Spock’s future self.” 

“A fact for which I will thank my lucky stars every morning when I wake up.” 

Jim had several visitors over the next few days, including his mother. She’d held his hand and pet his hair and he remembered everything he loved about her when she could be bothered to be around. Sure, he knew she loved him, but it was hard to feel it when she was never there to remind him. The video calls every week or month or whenever she could get around to him were never very assuring. He loved her, he did. He just didn’t feel it as deeply as he wanted to. 

“I trust you are well, Captain Kirk.” 

It was the only greeting Spock gave. “On the mend if Bones doesn’t kill me first.” 

“If Doctor McCoy has threatened you-“

“Relax, Spock. He’s just pissed I got hurt. He thinks I’m too reckless.” 

“Then he and I are in agreement.” 

Jim shook his head. “Look, I already got this lecture once, okay? It worked, didn’t it?” 

“Yes,” Spock agreed. “However, I would like to remind you that just because something works does not make it right. Your subroutine in the Ko-“

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jim interrupted. “I saved your ass, and Pike, and I’m lying in a biobed, and you want to talk about that stupid test?” 

“I am only concerned that you still have not grasped-“

“Listen here, Pointy,” Jim said, sitting up (and it hurt, but it was worth it). 

“Pointy?” repeated the Vulcan. “Is that a derogatory reference to-“

“Yes it is!” Jim exclaimed. “I understand exactly what your damn test is supposed to prove. And I reject it. I reject the idea that sometimes all we can do is cut our losses and run. I refuse, alright? You can’t teach people that. You can’t teach people to give up.” 

“Sometimes-“

“Yeah, okay, sometimes. But that’s the exception, not the rule. When you sent Pike off and came back for me, was that logical? That was a no-win scenario, Spock. You had no way of getting off the ship unless you got to me and how likely was that? You didn’t give up because even you know that you have to try.” 

“I did not think it was logical to leave you behind when there was reason to believe Nero was your only captor. My odds were reasonable.” 

Jim sighed and let himself fall back on the bed, wincing. The wound in his belly had been healed, but he was still raw inside where Bones had tirelessly worked to fix what had been damaged. It felt like a bad bruise and stung like a rough scrape. “Still, that test is stupid.” 

“The lesson of the no-win scenario is not meant to represent the everyday, Captain. It is meant to remind us all that we have limitations and that going beyond them will result in undesirable consequences. Had I not gone with you, Nero almost certainly would have tortured you to death.” 

“And that’s why we have a crew and not just a captain,” Jim replied tiredly. “The strength of the many makes up for the limits of the few.” 

“You refer to our conversation in your ethics class in which I posited that the needs of the many outweigh those of the few.” 

“Yeah, I figured throwing your own words back at you might help them stick.” 

The Vulcan only raised an eyebrow. “I am a creature of logic, Captain. You did not need to engage in any strategy to help your words land. I agree, in this instance.” 

Jim was silent for a moment, deciding he didn’t have the strength to reopen their disagreement on Tarsus. The Vulcan did not give him a choice, however. “It is curious that you remain so focused on the Tarsus IV disaster,” Spock remarked. “I find you are hyperfocused on no-win scenarios, and your background in agriculture would naturally lead you to that specific instance.” 

“My background… in agriculture?” Jim repeated, feeling uneasy. Exactly how much did Spock know about him? Had he figured out Jim was interested in Tarsus as more than just a bystander? 

“I am referring to your award for usage of shielding technology in farming,” Spock replied. “To what did you think I was referring?” 

“Nothing,” Jim answered, relieved that Spock didn’t suspect. “I was just unaware you had a habit of stalking your peers.” 

“Oh, I looked into you as a cadet, not a peer,” Spock corrected as if that didn’t make it more creepy. “Your interest in the Kobayashi Maru simulation piqued my own. Your refusal to learn its lesson is, in fact, singular.” 

“My refusal to give up, you mean.” 

“One and the same.” 

Jim rolled his eyes. He couldn’t decide if Spock was funny or annoying. “So I hear they’re giving the Enterprise to me.” 

Spock inclined his head. “Captain Pike has been promoted. It is a well-deserved appointment.” 

“It is. It also means I have to put together a crew. I’ll have to add quite a few new officers since we lost so many people on the last mission.” 

Spock nodded again. “I have been offered the first officer position on the USS Bradbury, so you do not need to concern yourself with me should you decide someone else is more qualified.” 

Jim felt a pang at the thought of Spock being some other captain’s science officer. He should let it go, let Spock go, but he couldn’t shake the look of warmth the older Spock- wait. The older Spock. A Spock who had lived far longer than any human could. Nero had told Jim that Spock had given his life for him, but how could that be if Spock lived to be that old? 

“Well, I’ll be sorry to see you go,” Jim replied. “I was going to offer you the position as my first officer, but if you’d rather serve on-“

“You are not concerned with our basic philosophical disagreements?” 

Jim snorted at the way he phrased it. “Spock, those disagreements are exactly why I’d pick you. I don’t want a first officer who bows and scrapes and obeys me without question. I want someone with another perspective. Someone who’ll challenge me to make the right calls. Maybe there’s a whole swarm of officers who can do that, but they didn’t save my life from some crazy-ass Romulan.” 

“Need I remind you why your life needed saving from the aforementioned ‘crazy-ass Romulan’?” 

“Spock, that was a different you. Besides, he gave me the whole story.” 

“He… gave you?” 

Jim’s eyes widened as he realized his own slip. “I mean, Nero. Nero gave me the… whole story.” 

“According to Nero, I destroyed his home world.” 

“Okay, fine. It was you. Old you. He did some Vulcan magic and showed me the whole thing. You were trying to save Romulus. You just couldn’t get there in time.” 

“By ‘Vulcan magic,” am I to infer you mean a mind meld? He shared his mind with you?” 

Jim nodded. “Apparently you and I are friends in his world.” 

“He told me something similar. I am still shocked to hear he would meld with you. That is… a very personal action.” 

“Well, like Nero said. Our camaraderie was famous.” 

“Captain,” the Vulcan began, and Jim could tell he was trying to be delicate with his human feelings. “If you are trying to recreate that reality, I find it necessary to remind you that this timeline-“

“Relax, Spock. I’m not chasing ghosts. I mean it. You challenge me. I already know we are different people from that Spock and Jim. The other me grew up with a dad. He had a different childhood. I don’t know about yours, but I know I’m not the same guy he knew. I just have his face. This is about the Enterprise and what’s best. Maybe we’ll be like the other two, maybe we won’t. But for now… I think this makes sense.” 

Spock inclined his head. “Your logic is sound. I will accept the position as your first officer.” 

“Good,” Jim grinned. “And you’re good with Uhura being in charge of communications, right? I know how you like regulations.” 

“Our relationship is not against regulations,” Spock stated. “She does not answer to me, thus I have no authority over her or her career.” 

Jim shrugged. “Then I’ll see you for duty… whenever Bones lets me out of this biobed.” 


	8. Chapter 8

Spock resisted the urge to kiss Nyota. It was illogical to act as though he would never see her again and even more foolish to demonstrate his emotionalism in front of Mister Sulu. He was going to go into the volcano, set the timer, and be lifted back out. Still, the element of danger made him uncertain. There were risks and plenty of potential problems. Already the shuttle was having issues with the ash. 

They were given the go-ahead and Jim insisted the natives would not see, so Spock began his descent. The cable failed halfway and he barely managed to avoid landing in the magma. 

He should have kissed her. 

Spock did his best not to dwell on it as he set the device and eyed the countdown. He did not want to spend his last moments watching the digital numbers, so he knelt and opened his arms in a form of meditation, attempting to achieve equilibrium. That was Spock’s problem. He cared too deeply. The logic and calm that had been bred into the Vulcan race was not so easy for him. His human half made it harder to control his emotions, and they ran just as deep as any Vulcan’s. Over the years, he had become adept at hiding them, but never at fully controlling them. The right trigger would always send him over the edge. 

So when he found himself on the transporter pad with the captain running in to inquire as to his wellbeing, Spock could not help but feel anger. “Captain, you violated the Prime Directive!” 

“He’s fine,” McCoy grumbled and they informed Nyota of his safe return. The device had successfully settled the volcano, but now this culture was irrevocably changed. 

Spock returned to his quarters to meditate, though he was still finding it difficult if not impossible to breach the first level. Their first mission was to survey a planet and the captain had somehow managed to violate the Prime Directive and at least a dozen other regulations. This was partly James Kirk’s human sentimentality, but mostly his inability to accept any form of loss. 

So this had been about Spock. His failure to achieve his mission without imperiling his own life had caused the captain to break regulation. Having sorted through the situation, Spock began to draw up his report, doing his best to make it seem as though the captain had made a logical choice even when Spock knew he had not. Putting as much emphasis on his own failures as he could, Spock finally finished the report and sent it off. 

He did not know that the captain would lie in his own logs. 

Once again, Spock had failed to fully fathom the lengths to which Captain Kirk would go to protect his ship. 

The consequences had finally come for James T. Kirk and Spock was actually sorry for it. As much as he disagreed with the man’s decision to violate the Prime Directive, Spock believed that James Kirk was a good captain and that he did more good than harm. Spock’s messages and requests for dialogue were ignored by his former captain and he ended up taking the position on the Bradbury. 

Spock reported for duty the next morning and found he was still preoccupied with the dynamic between himself and former Captain Kirk. It was incredibly frustrating. He was still able to complete his inspections and migrate his experiments to the lab on the Bradbury, but it took longer than usual and his heart was not in it, to borrow from another human idiom of his mother’s. 

Spock had found himself thinking of her more and more lately. She had always helped him with “human issues,” as she called them. Spock had received little in the way of affection- physical or otherwise- in his life, and almost all of it had come from his mother. She would tell him that his human half was nothing to be ashamed of and would hug him, telling him humans needed such demonstrations of affection. Something in Spock always wanted to argue with her, tell her that his human tendencies were shameful, but how could he? It was especially difficult to put down his human qualities when he so admired them in his mother. She was right, too. Spock enjoyed the casual affection she would give him at home. She never made such displays in public because she knew how much shame he felt for appreciating them. However, she always knew when he required an embrace or a kiss on the cheek, even though he was certain his face never moved. 

He missed her. 

Nyota was also ignoring his messages after a fashion. Her responses were terse and invited no further discussion. He left her alone when he realized this to be the case. She was clearly angry with him for some reason, and he assumed it was because he had agreed to this transfer. When he was told that it was so that Kirk could take the first officer position, Spock had agreed a little too readily. Though he would never admit it, he felt guilt for filing the report which resulted in his loss in station. Mostly, Spock knew that the position would help form Kirk into something Starfleet could tolerate. Captain Pike was an excellent role model from whom Kirk could learn, and by the end he would undoubtedly become the best captain Starfleet could offer. 

Still, he’d had a choice and in Nyota’s eyes, he must have made the wrong one. He had, after all, chosen to leave her. The Enterprise would, as Kirk had surmised, be sent on a five year mission. Nyota likely would not wish to continue their association over a five year absence. He did not fully blame her. Humans were not quite as monogamous as Vulcans were. Still, Spock did not believe he would find another who was so compatible with both his human and Vulcan halves. 

Being a child of two worlds was not easy. 

He received the emergency alert to meet in the Daystrom room and was immediately on alert. The only circumstances which would result in senior officers being summoned there were not good ones. As soon as he walked into the building, he spotted Kirk and was after him before he even realized he intended to talk to the man. 

“Captain Kirk!” 

“Commander, not captain, Spock. I’ve been demoted,” he replied in a voice that made it clear he was still upset with the Vulcan. 

“That is precisely the thing I wished to apologize for, Commander,” he replied, cursing himself inwardly for the slip-up. They’d only had one real mission together, but it was enough to form the habit. Calling Kirk captain felt right. Having him in command felt right. “I realize now I should have checked with you before filing my report. I merely wished to take responsibility-“

“Spock, I really don’t care what you wanted. I saved your life, you filed a report, I lost my ship.” 

Spock blinked at the wounded feeling in his stomach. “I am grateful, though I still cannot reconcile-“

“Spock. Where I come from, someone saves your life, you say thanks. You certainly don’t stab them in the damn back.” 

“That was not my intent.” 

“Well, it’s certainly the impact you had.” 

“I had hoped that my decision to cede the position as first officer would prove that I am on your side, Ca- Commander.” 

Kirk looked at him, really looked at him. “The truth is, Spock, I don’t blame you. I know I broke the rules, but you know what? Sometimes the rules should be broken. The truth is, I miss you. I’m mad about the demotion, sure. But we worked well together, man. We were a good team and now… Well, we’re not even on the same ship.” 

Spock inclined his head as they stepped out of the lift. “Commander Spock?” 

The Vulcan turned to see Captain Abbot who needlessly introduced himself and pointed out that they would be sitting together in the meeting. He gave James a wistful look that no one noticed as they parted. Spock missed him, too. 

His initial thought on hearing of the attack on the archive was that it made no sense. There was no irretrievable information stored there. Starfleet would not consolidate important information in a way where any of it could be lost. Harrison must have had another goal, then. If loss of life had been the intent, there were other targets that would have produced higher casualty counts. Of course, this could be the beginning. Perhaps this was Harrison’s indication of his seriousness and his demands would come later. 

Suddenly, all eyes were on Kirk as he voiced some of the same concerns, only he arrived at a different conclusion. Spock locked eyes with him as the room began to glow and shot to his feet as Kirk turned to the window. 

“Clear the room!” 

Instead of listening, Spock’s first instinct was to _protect_. He lunged for his former captain, determined to remove him from the path of harm. He had seen James Kirk bloody and injured before. He had no intent to repeat the experience. 

By the time he reached Kirk’s position however, the commander was gone. Spock saw him in the hall, firing a weapon at the ship and cursed the man’s tendency to use his own life as a shield for others. Spock was stopped again, this time by Captain Pike. 

He was wounded and Spock knew from the location and severity that the medics would not arrive in time. His mentor met his gaze with one of fear. 

It was immoral to initiate a mind meld without someone’s consent, but he knew Captain Pike. He’d served under him faithfully, and Spock was not about to let him die alone. He reached for the man’s meld points, holding his eyes, and only met him halfway. He sent reassurance through the meeting and received in return fear and anger and loneliness. 

Then there was nothing. 

James appeared at his side and Spock knew Harrison had been dealt with. He watched in great discomfort as Kirk realized his mentor was gone and actually broke down. James Kirk had now lost two father figures and Spock did not know how to help- especially with his own grief clouding his mind. Kirk pulled away and then pulled himself together remarkably fast and Spock could not help but find his restraint fascinating. 

It was not until the next day that Spock realized the control James displayed was, like Spock’s, only at the surface level. He listened as Kirk and Admiral Marcus made covert plans to risk war with the Klingons in order to murder John Harrison. They spoke as if this was justice, but Spock knew it was not. As soon as he was reinstated as Captain Kirk’s first officer, he made a point to inform the captain of his misgivings. 

Doctor McCoy was busy checking the captain’s vitals since he had apparently refused to report to medical after the attack. Spock could only imagine what he had been doing instead. 

There was no time to dwell on the captain’s activities. A new science officer arrived who Spock did not remember receiving transfer orders for. Captain Kirk seemed all too happy to receive her (undoubtedly a symptom of his propensity for promiscuity) so it was left to him to discover her motives. 

He was pleased when the captain arrived at his own conclusion that Harrison should be brought to face justice and gave him a nod of approval before offering his services in the man’s apprehension. Nyota was also added to the away team, and Spock agreed with the logic in this choice. Her command of the Klingon language was unmatched, however he was not gratified to learn that the reason she had been ignoring him had been because she had mistaken his lack of emotion for a lack of caring. 

It was humiliating to display his sentiment in front of his captain. None of them said anything in response to his revelation, but he knew that he and Nyota would be alright now that she had forced him to clear up their misunderstanding in front of the captain. It was fortunate they only had one witness, though it was unfortunate that it had to be someone so important. 

He watched with trepidation as Nyota approached the Klingons alone and his tension sprang him into action when it went south. Luckily, a disruptor entered the mix which gave her time to attack the Klingon threatening her. 

Spock was even more uneasy as he realized John Harrison was capable of taking out every last Klingon, and yet he surrendered to them after discovered the number of torpedoes. Was there significance in the number? 

It was too easy and Spock told the captain as much once they were alone. Something was very, very off about Harrison. It had become even more apparent when the captain attacked him and was unable to create any kind of damage. Even the calculating way he’d repeated the captain’s rank made Spock nervous. He collected information like it was a weapon and Spock did not want him on the ship, though he acknowledged there were no alternatives. 

Nyota’s kiss confirmed that they were okay again, but she did not stay or even speak. Spock could not either. They still had a job to do, and Spock’s was rapidly becoming the Herculean effort of keeping the captain away from Harrison. The man was too smart, and Captain Kirk appeared to be falling for all of his manipulations. 

Spock strenuously objected to opening a torpedo and was ignored. He strenuously objected to trusting Harrison (or Khan, as he was now calling himself) with a mission to infiltrate Admiral Marcus’ ship. Spock was still trying to figure out how and why Marcus had betrayed them. He was also trying to understand why the captain’s halfway flirtation with Carol Marcus was bothering him so much, but that needed to be a much lower priority. 

That jealousy became clearer to Spock only once it was too late. Captain James T. Kirk had followed in his father’s footsteps and taken on a suicide mission to save the rest of his crew. 

“Get this compartment open!” Spock demanded. 

His captain, his friend, his brother was dying and he was alone. Spock dropped to his knees outside the compartment, trying desperately not to feel this loss and failing miserably. He could give his captain no comfort, could not save him or even make his end at least somewhat comfortable. 

For the first time since he was a very young child, Spock began to cry. It should have felt like a betrayal, to cry over Captain Kirk, someone he did not even refer to by first name, when he had not even cried over the death of his planet or even his own mother. It did not. Desperately, he grasped for anger. This was a rage he had felt before, the rage that had consumed him when his planet was destroyed, when the very man he had just lost in the present had poked at that open wound until he had nearly killed the then-commander himself. 

He was barely aware of being spoken to, but he was beamed down to Khan’s location and he was going to beat him to death. His embraced every Vulcan warrior instinct he had and he was still losing, but somehow he did not care. All semblance of self-preservation had escaped him. 

Nyota came to his rescue at the last minute and, between the two of them, they managed to overpower the man. Spock finally got to accomplish his mission. He beat Khan bloody in spite of Nyota’s protests and his own earlier insistence that they provide him a trial and not just an execution. The only thing that reached him were two words: _save Kirk_.

It took everything he had to spare the man that had caused his captain’s death. 

Over the next three weeks, he was almost constantly by the captain’s side. Logically, he knew there was no threat, but his instincts would not let him leave James Kirk vulnerable. Not when he had literally died. 

It was the visit from himself, that is to say the older version from the other reality, that finally began to clear things up for him. 

“I cried for him,” Spock finally admitted. “He died alone and I was unable to provide him any comfort and it… was unbearable.” 

“In my reality, my Jim Kirk was t’hy’la,” the older Vulcan revealed. “It appears that you have managed to form this bond with your own Jim Kirk as well.” 

Spock shook his head. “He cannot be. He already formed such a bond with a different Vulcan. The probability of-“

“Perhaps you may have noticed, Spock. The rules do not always apply to Jim Kirk. Even death, it seems, is beyond him.” 

His counterpart stared at the unconscious form in the biobed and Spock recognized that look. He had been wearing it on his own face for a week now. “I lost control,” he admitted in a small voice. “I did not even want to reach for logic. I did not want to control it.” 

“He is t’hy’la,” his counterpart reiterated. “You know as well as I do what the loss of t’hy’la is to a Vulcan.” 

“There are only rumors,” Spock insisted. “The term is antiquated. There are no true t’hy’la anymore.” “It is devastating,” the Vulcan informed him, and he somehow seemed even older. “The loss of t’hy’la will cripple you. It will not kill you, but you will wish it would. And yet… you will not regret one moment of your life together.” 

Spock could not imagine such a reality. He did not want any of it to be true. It made things very complicated. If James Kirk was t’hy’la, he and Nyota could never truly be happy together. “I am already in a relationship,” Spock tried to argue. 

“There is no need to change that,” his counterpart assured him. “My relationship with Jim Kirk was never sexual. It went far beyond the physical.” 

Spock nodded. “There are still many things I do not know about him. It has been indicated to me that he has a history of trauma.” 

His counterpart nodded and Spock was struck by just how similar they were in spite of the years and different circumstances between them. “I have no doubt he will reveal these things to you as the trust between you grows.” 

“I do not suppose you have any clues you could give me on how to reach him?” 

There was a great deal of thought that Spock wished he were privy to, but ultimately the Vulcan did not tell him anything concrete. “I do not know what happened to your Jim on that planet, but I know it was different and possibly worse than my own Jim’s experiences.” 

“What planet?” Spock asked. 

His counterpart raised an eyebrow. “You have read his file, have you not? Starfleet did publish the names of the few survivors of-“

“Tarsus IV,” Spock realized. “He was on the planet.” 

“Then you do know.” 

“I did not,” Spock shook his head. “I had hoped one of my other theories was correct. That he was on the planet confirms that Starfleet has done something terrible. The details of what happened on that planet are classified, and he has implied that those details might alter the public’s opinion on whether or not the actions taken by Governor Kodos could ever be justified. I took his assertions to be an overindulgence in conspiracy theories, but if you are correct then that is not so.” 

His counterpart looked deeply disturbed by this information. “There is no reason for Jim’s father’s death to have changed the events on Tarsus IV that drastically. Something else must have been changed.” 

Spock looked to his own captain. “He has always seemed so confident, so sure of himself.” 

“It is how he copes. Jim was never good at showing anything he perceived as weakness. I am sure you of all people can understand that.” 

Spock only nodded. They spoke on a few other topics before the ambassador excused himself, and it was clear that the man was upset with himself for revealing what he had thought to be common knowledge. His heart was not in this either. His mind was reeling with what had just been revealed to him. James Kirk had been badly damaged, and Starfleet was covering it up. 


	9. Chapter 9

Jim watched as his traitorous first officer left him alone with Admiral Pike. 

“You broke the rules and then you lied about it!” Pike reprimanded him. 

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Starfleet lied. At least I saved lives with mine.” 

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Pike demanded. 

All the air went out of Jim. He couldn’t answer that. The man seemed to realize he’d stumbled into some truth about Jim and that it was important. More gently, he repeated the question. “What does that mean, Jim?” 

“I mean that Starfleet has lied in the past to make itself look better.” 

“About what?” 

Jim pressed his lips together. He wanted to tell him, wanted it so badly. Pike was like the father who’d lived for him instead of died for him. “It’s classified,” he finally managed to grind out. 

That really seemed to capture Pike’s attention. He’d known Jim for his entire Starfleet career. He knew every mission Jim had ever been on, and he knew the details of all of them because he’d been part of the first and Spock had told him everything about the second. “Your mother’s in Starfleet,” Pike pressed. 

“She had nothing to do with it,” Jim sighed. “She wasn’t there.” 

Pike waited for Jim to go on, and he waited longer than Jim would have. “Kirk, please don’t force me to make it an order.” 

“Sir, if you don’t know what I’m talking about, then I’m pretty sure it’s above your security clearance.” 

“Son, nothing is above my security clearance anymore. You don’t have to give me details. I can find that on my own.” 

Jim shook his head. “I can’t, sir. And apparently I’ve lost my ship, so I don’t see any point in following orders.” 

“Kid, I can’t defend you if I don’t have a reason.” 

Jim felt small and helpless again, but the worst part was that Pike could see it. He wanted to help and Jim could see that, but there was nothing anyone could do to make it better. “You won’t find it in my file. They erased any trace of it in the survivors’ histories. The only ones you can look up are the dead ones.” 

“Dead ones?” 

Jim almost couldn’t get the name out. He’d managed it with Bones because he’d been low and drunk off his ass. Here, with Pike, sober… his voice was strangled when he finally managed, “Tarsus IV.” 

Jim didn’t look at Pike. He didn’t want to see the change in his face. Maybe there wasn’t one. Jim didn’t intend to find out. “Am I dismissed, sir?” 

The reply was delayed, but it did come. “Yes.” 

Jim nodded, still not looking at the man as he hurried out. Jim tried to focus on anything else once he got back to his apartment, but he was spiraling. He needed a drink and a sleazy encounter so that his skin would stop crawling. So he found the nearest dive bar that hadn’t banned him yet and ordered a nice, cold scotch. He was just making eyes at a woman two seats over when the middle one was taken by none other than Admiral Pike. 

“Oh, come on!” Jim groaned. “How did you even find me?” 

“I know you better than you think I do, kid,” Pike informed him. Jim sighed. “You were right. They classified the hell out of that situation. I had to work some pretty questionable paperwork to even get an overview. Jesus, kid.” 

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Jim said tersely. 

“No, I guess you wouldn’t,” Pike agreed. “What happened on that planet, Jim… It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t Starfleet’s place to cover it up.” 

“And yet they did.” 

“I want to blow it open,” Pike stated without hesitation. “There are responsible parties who never saw any justice, Jim. And I’m willing to bet there are parts that weren’t written down. Some of the kids that left that place didn’t speak for months. Many of them showed signs of sexual abuse.” 

“Pike, I know. I lived it. I don’t want to re-live it. I killed a guard because he was touching one of my kids.” 

“Your kids?” 

“Yeah, my kids. I took care of them.” 

Pike was giving Jim a look that made him really uncomfortable. It said something like _You were a kid,_ or _You’ve always had too much heart._ Thankfully he understood it was past time to drop it. “They’re giving the Enterprise back to me.” 

It was like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He struggled to take it back in slowly. “Congratulations, sir,” he stated as sincerely as he could. “Watch your back with that first officer, though.” 

“Spock’s transferred to the Bradbury. You’re my first officer. That is, if you accept.” 

Warmth filled him and he was sure it was showing on his face. He nodded. “Thank you, sir. I don’t know what to say.” 

“That’s a first,” Pike smirked. Both their communicators went off in unison and Pike frowned. They both looked. They were being summoned to the Daystrom room. “I have to make a stop, but I’ll meet you there.” 

Jim nodded and headed for the building. He was accosted by his former first officer and anger simmered just below his surface. Spock wanted to apologize and that alone should have clued Jim in to his sincere regard for his former captain, but Jim was still angry and hurt. He hadn’t realized until he articulated it, but he was more angry over the loss of their partnership than the blow to his career. 

“I miss you, Spock,” he confessed and waited. Spock said nothing and Jim shook his head before stalking off in disappointment. He should have known the Vulcan respected him and nothing more. They weren’t friends. 

The attack was devastating. Pike’s loss was devastating. Jim wanted Harrison dead for this. His only comfort was that Pike had not left by choice. No, he had been taken from Jim. Someone finally knew at least some of what he’d suffered and wanted to bring justice to him, and they’d been taken. He wondered briefly if this was more coverup. 

It was easy enough to get Marcus to reinstate him and Spock as his first. Jim was ready, and so was Spock. As much as he fought it, not even his own anger could deny that Spock was right. Jim didn’t execute people, not unless he had to. It felt like he had to, but he realized even as he was informing the crew of their mission that he could not. 

They would bring John Harrison in alive. It was worth it if for no other reason than to see the pleased look on Spock’s face. 

He didn’t understand why Uhura had decided to confront Spock about their fight (which, what was that even like?) on the flight down, but he suspected it had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t get away from her. Hearing Spock talk about his feelings or even admit to having them had a profound impact on him. He knew how hard that was for him. Ty had expressed shame at the idea of experiencing emotion and Jim could only imagine how much worse it would be for a half-Vulcan. Spock didn’t have to tell Jim that he struggled with feeling not Vulcan enough. Jim picked that up on his own. 

Jim did his best to flirt with Carol Wallace, but he was too focused on the mission at hand. She rebuffed him, which at least made it entertaining, but he got the impression he was genuinely annoying her and decided to stop. Usually women thought he was charming even if they weren’t interested. Hell, half the time Jim wasn’t even interested. He just flirted because it felt good. If they took him seriously, he made himself interested. Everyone won. 

As soon as he saw the person in the missile, Jim knew he could not ignore Harrisson. 

_My name is Khan._

Something about him woke something in Jim, made him feel simultaneously uneasy and at ease. The name crawled over his skin and made its home in his lungs, taking away valuable space he needed for breathing. Still, Jim knew that logically the man had proven trustworthy. He had never lied, which was more than Jim could say for Starfleet. It was impossible to ignore the connection he felt to the man. They had both been screwed over and had it covered up. Starfleet had sent Jim to kill this man and his crew. When Khan had surrendered to them… Jim could understand that on the most basic, primal level. He would give up everything for his crew, just like Khan. 

However, Jim would have a backup plan. He wouldn’t give up until he had to, and he didn’t expect Khan would either. He wasn’t an idiot and neither was Khan. 

If anyone else found it suspicious when Khan disappeared during their flight to Marcus’ ship only to reappear when Jim’s viewer malfunctioned, they kept it to themselves. Jim however, couldn’t help but wonder if Khan had intended to keep himself hidden until Jim had taken care of the obstacles. 

It became clearer when they reached the bridge. He attempted to take Marcus in alive, but Khan stopped him. The beating he took was not long, but it was brutal. Khan’s strength was unbelievable, as evidenced by his ability to crush the admiral’s skull with his bare hands. 

Spock met him at the transporter pad as he returned with Scotty and Carol and he immediately glued himself to his first officer’s side as they walked to the turbolift. “Captain, we have removed Khan’s crew from the missiles and armed them. He will notice imminently.” 

“I’ll check on Scotty and see what’s taking so long,” Jim rushed out. “You get us out of here as soon as we can achieve warp. Khan isn’t going to go quietly.” 

“No,” Spock agreed. “We will deal with Admiral Marcus’ deceptions when we return as well.” 

Jim stopped as they both got into the turbolift. “Spock, I don’t think you’ll have much luck there. This won’t be the first thing Starfleet covers up, and it won’t be the last.” 

“To what coverup do you refer?” 

Jim shook his head. “We’ll talk later, Spock. Starfleet has its problems, but there are good people still in it. Get my ship to safety.” 

Jim exited the turbolift and found Scotty cursing. “The core is misaligned,” he lamented. “There’s no way to fix it, captain. The climb up to it alone will kill us.” 

“There’s no protective suit or something?” Jim marveled. “No one thought of anything like that?” 

“No, captain. This is something you would no consider a possibly. I cannae begin to tell you how it happened.” 

Jim turned to look past Scotty and waited for him to see what had caught the captain’s eye. “Sorry, Scotty.” 

“Wh-“

Jim knocked him out and buckled him into a seat. If they didn’t get out of here, everyone was going to die. There was no suit. There was nothing but a suicide mission and Jim wasn’t going to let anyone else take it. 

The climb was nothing like Scotty had described. Jim felt fine. When he reached the top, he still felt fine. The misalignment was obvious and Jim wasn’t sure if he believed it was accidental, but that would be for someone else (probably Mr. Scott) to figure out when the ship got back. Jim grabbed the top of the core and swung, putting his entire body weight and all of his muscle into kicking the base back to its correct position. 

At first he thought he would be unable to manage it, but he knew the moment it had realigned. The blast sent him to the bottom without having to climb down. Jim groaned in pain as he felt at least one rib break on impact. It felt like his skin was vibrating, then tingling, and finally burning. It didn’t matter, though. Jim felt the jerk of the ship as it went to warp. They would all be fine. 

He smiled to himself and took a moment to rest. It wasn’t like he had anywhere to go. No need to push himself, though he did need to get the compartment closed before he died. They’d never be able to get in if the decontamination chamber was irradiated. Jim didn’t want his body decomposing in the ship’s engine, even if they could somehow still manage repairs. Slowly, Jim began to drag himself. Everything hurt. He could feel himself dying, and the knowledge that he’d given in to the no-win scenario was the worst part. The first thing he saw was Scotty’s face. The engineer immediately began to curse and turned away, speaking into his communicator. Jim couldn’t make out the words, but he could guess. 

He made it to the window and took another opportunity to rest. Jim was fading fast and he didn’t even realize how zoned out he’d been until Spock swam into his vision. As fast as he could manage (and Jim could tell by the distress on Spock’s face that it was not fast at all), Jim hit the button to close the door so the compartment could begin decontamination. 

“How’s my ship?” he croaked out. 

“The ship is fine,” Spock informed him and maybe it was his failing body, but Jim thought he heard a waver in that normally flat voice. “You have saved everyone, captain.” 

Jim put his hand on the glass and Spock placed his against Jim’s. He’d never hated an inanimate object quite so much as he hated that door in that moment. “Help me not feel, Spock,” he begged. “I’m scared, help me not be. How do you choose not to feel?” 

“I do not know,” Spock replied and this time Jim knew he had not imagined that unsteadiness in the Vulcan voice. “Right now I am failing.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jim told him and let his eyes fall shut because he was too tired to keep them open. “The needs of the many…”

“I find myself distinctly unconcerned with the many in this moment, captain.” 

Jim forced his eyes open and smiled weakly at his first officer. “How the tables have turned,” he teased, but it didn’t work in his favor because his final word was choked out and follow by a coughing fit that left the flavor of copper in his mouth. “Spock, I need you to know… Why I came back for you on Nibiru, it’s-“

“Because you are my friend,” Spock nodded. “You are my friend, Jim, and I do not wish to be parted from you.” 

Jim gave him a watery look and his vision was blurred by more than just his own tears, but was Spock crying? “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I would’ve died either way. This way, it’s just me, Spock. Just me.” 

Spock began to speak again, but Jim did not hear him. He took the blurred silhouette of his friend with him into the void of death. 


	10. Chapter 10

Spock had much time to think on what his counterpart had revealed to him about James Kirk’s past. If this was something classified, which his captain did not want him to know, perhaps he should allow the man the comfort of his secrets. Then again, it was illogical to pretend he did not know something so pivotal. 

Spending his days by his captain’s biobed was not very productive, so Spock had taken to working while he watched over the man. Once he’d caught up on all the paperwork from their mission and the repairs they needed done, he could no longer contain his curiosity and began to go over every bit of public information on the Tarsus IV massacre. There was very little he did not know. In fact, there was nothing. There was so little information, that Spock found it improbable that he had not realized sooner facts were missing. His trust in Starfleet had been so solid that he had been unable to recognize his own bias in this situation. 

The urge to find the classified information grew unbearable as the days passed and he was both unable to find something to do and unable to properly meditate. Thankfully, at the end of the second week, Kirk awoke. Doctor McCoy had stopped the administration of the sedative which had kept their captain unconscious to better heal. The doctor insisted that not only did he need the rest, but that a medically induced coma was the only way their captain would get it. 

Spock was uncertain as to the ethics of this decision, but he was not about to argue over his captain’s recovery. _His t’hy’la_ , Spock’s traitorous mind insisted. He desperately needed to meditate. His thoughts were growing harder and harder to control. 

Doctor McCoy and the captain exchanged banter and Spock wondered how one who had just been brought back from the dead could behave in such a way. 

“It was Spock who managed to bring Khan in,” McCoy informed the captain as he stepped aside to monitor his vitals. 

Spock warmed, feeling his cheeks tint green as James Kirk looked at him. There was a smile on his lips as he said, “You saved my life.” 

“You saved my life, and the lives of the crew,” he deflected. “Quite possibly the-“

“Spock,” the captain interrupted and Spock stopped if only because the air had been startled out of him. “Just let me thank you.” 

“You are most welcome, captain,” Spock replied. 

“Uhura and I had something to do with it too, you know,” the doctor grumbled. 

“Thanks to you too,” the captain said, but his eyes didn’t leave Spock’s. Then the captain blinked and the moment was gone. “You okay, Spock?” 

“Fine, captain,” Spock stated. It was not a lie. Fine has variable definitions. Kirk seemed to realize what Spock had done and he frowned, though he did not press for a different answer. 

“Keep an eye on him,” the doctor ordered Spock. “He’s not allowed out of bed. Don’t let him even sit up. I have to check on another patient.” 

Doctor McCoy delivered half of his speech to his patient, his expression almost as threatening as his voice. Spock inclined his head in acknowledgment and the doctor left them alone. Spock wondered if there truly was another patient. 

“Guess you’re stuck with me,” the captain smirked. 

“As I find your company to be agreeable, I do not think ‘stuck’ is the appropriate term.” 

“Aw, Spock. I’m flattered.” 

Spock tilted his head slightly. “I was not making an attempt at flattery, captain.” 

“We’re not on duty, Spock. You can use my name.” 

Spock really should not let himself get more attached to James Kirk than he already was. “I do not believe this is wise, captain.” 

Kirk sighed. “It’s kind of a blur, and I mean literally a blur because my eyes weren’t doing so hot, but my ears were working just fine when we both seemed to agree we were friends.” 

“I apologize for my emotional outburst, captain. I have been unable to properly meditate and it has affected me more than I wish to admit.” 

“Why can’t you meditate?” 

“Many Vulcans have experienced similar difficulties since the destruction of Vulcan-that-was. With the loss of so many of our species and the resulting broken telepathic links, it has drastically changed our relationship to one another and the mind space.” 

Captain Kirk had a look of concern. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to help.” 

Spock shook his head. “I require only your patience as, without proper meditation, I am more likely to display my emotions.” 

“You know that doesn’t bother me, right Spock? I know you find it embarrassing, and I don’t want you to be embarrassed, but we humans aren’t exactly cool and logical ourselves, you know?” 

“I am aware, captain.” 

“So I’m guessing that whole ‘you are my friend’ thing was just because I was dying, right?” 

Spock was taken aback. For a full three seconds, he was speechless. “Vulcans cannot lie, captain. I was merely apologizing for allowing my emotions to overcome rationality.” 

“So you consider us friends.” 

“Yes, captain.” 

“But you insist on using my title even when we’re off duty.” 

Spock felt his cheeks warming again. “Captain, I hold you in very high respect-“

“Spock. Space is a lonely, cold place. I’d rather have your friendship than your respect.” 

“You have both, captain.” 

Kirk sighed and did not argue his point any further. Spock’s heart clenched and his stomach roiled painfully beside it. “I have disappointed you.” 

Kirk gave him a sad smile. “We’re just different people, Spock. That’s a good thing. If we always saw eye to eye, we wouldn’t be as good a team as we are.” 

“If I have caused offense-“

“Spock, I’m not offended. It’s just… difficult for me to be professional and use titles with my friends.” 

“And it is difficult to view professional courtesy as friendly?” 

“Something like that. But it’s okay. If you’re not comfortable with it, don’t. The ship comes first, so if you need to call me captain…”

Spock nodded again. He was grateful for the leniency, though it caused him to wonder if he should make this concession for his captain. Clearly the man craved the casual and easy familiarity he shared with Dr. McCoy. It seemed sensible that he would crave this camaraderie elsewhere. A compromise, then. Spock would refer to him by name, but would not be so familiar as to use the diminutive. “James, when you first returned to-“

“Jim.” 

Spock was still as he attempted to discern the cause of the captain’s displeasure. “I only thought-“

“Jim is my name,” Kirk insisted. “If it’s between James and captain, I pick captain.” 

With an uncertain nod, Spock reverted to his original salutation. “Captain, when you first returned to the Enterprise, you suggested that Starfleet would cover up Admiral Marcus’ actions in order to paint itself in a better light. You implied that you have knowledge of this happening in the past.” 

“I did,” Kirk agreed. 

“You also indicated we would discuss these circumstances.” 

“And you didn’t wait too long to get into that, did you?” 

Spock furrowed his brows in bewilderment. Why did the captain sound bitter? “I seem to recall your suggesting such a thing about Tarsus IV in the ethics lesson I taught. I have been reading about the subject while waiting for you to awaken the past two weeks and have come to the conclusion that you may be correct. There are very few details available, even with my clearance.” 

“Well, I’m glad you agree… Did you say you were waiting for me to wake up?” 

“Yes, I have been doing my work here to ensure your safety.” 

“My safety?” 

“Captain, if Starfleet wished to cover up Admiral Marcus’ actions, the easiest way would be to silence the witnesses.” 

“Wait. So you’ve been here watching me sleep because you think Starfleet wants to murder me?” 

“They have since publicized a story blaming Khan and describing Marcus as having lost his life in a heroic manner.” 

Jim whistled to indicate that he was impressed. “Well, I guess I can’t say I’m surprised, but damn…”

“Captain,” Spock began again, determined to get to the bottom of Tarsus IV. “Jim. Do you know something about the Tarsus IV massacre that the general public does not?” 

“Spock, I would have to have been on that planet to know anything you don’t.” 

Even his use of his captain’s diminutive name had not won his trust. Perhaps Spock should stop attempting to approach the subject so subtly. “You do not deny that you know something.” 

“Spock…”

“Captain, I feel compelled to tell you that your history was unintentionally revealed to me by my counterpart. In his reality, the names of the survivors are not classified. He assumed I already knew and is not to blame for the personal nature of this revelation.” 

Captain Kirk had gone pale and Spock wondered if he had miscalculated. “Jim, I am asking not out of curiosity, but as your friend. My concern is for your well-being. If there were crimes against you or others, it would gratify me to ensure that justice was delivered in these cases.” 

“There’s no justice for what happened there, Spock. Nothing can make that right.” 

“Captain-“

“I’m not nearly drunk enough for this conversation, Spock. I’m sorry. I can’t.” 

“Very well,” Spock agreed. “But please know that I will make myself available the moment you decide you are ready.” 

“Thanks.” 

Kirk’s hand clenched around the blankets and Spock wanted to reach for it. His captain ( _t’hy’la_ ) was distressed and Spock wanted to soothe him, starting with that clenched hand. 

He needed to meditate so badly. 

Selfishly, Spock wanted to leave so that Captain Kirk would not witness his emotionalism, but he could tell the man was in an anxious state and it would be cruel to leave him alone in this way. 

“There was a Vulcan on the planet with me,” Jim told him. “You look so much like him. I know you’re not. It’s just… Fuck, he saved my life so many times. He was like my brother.” 

“T’hy’la,” Spock confirmed. “To lose such a person is an agony from which you do not ever truly recover. I grieve with thee, Jim.” 

Spock did not stop himself this time. The captain’s eyes were shiny with tears and Spock would sooner cry in front of his childhood tormentors than allow him to suffer alone. Spock covered Jim’s hand in his own, feeling the man’s grief as he tried to guide him to a more positive place. Spock tried to impress reassurances on him, sending as much support through the touch as he could. 

It must have been noticeable because Jim met his gaze and Spock realized belatedly that perhaps he should have asked first. 

“Did you do that?” Jim asked quietly. 

“I should have requested your permission first. I apologize.” 

The captain shook his head. “It’s okay. As long as you don’t go poking around in my head without asking, you have blanket permission. He used to do something like that, too. Ty. He was the only person who saw me as a kid on that planet. He could make my nightmares go away, and calm me down. He had to touch my face for it though, like Old Spock.” 

Spock should not feel jealous of a dead Vulcan, but he did. To meld minds with one’s t’hy’la was an experience which Spock craved. But Jim had already had one t’hy’la. This had likely changed their circumstances so that they would not share the same level of relationship as their counterparts had. “I am gratified to know that someone was able to care for you.” 

Jim nodded. “Well, that’s enough of this morbid talk. Dead kids is the last thing you want to hear about.” 

“If you wish to talk about it, then I wish to hear about it.” 

Jim looked at his hand in Spock’s and the Vulcan realized he must have been projecting some of his emotion through their touch. “Are you embarrassed?” Jim asked and Spock immediately withdrew his hands. “Shit, Spock, I’m pouring my heart out to you and you’re embarrassed about what?” 

“I did not intend to allow my feelings to slip through. As I said, it has been more difficult to maintain control over my mental state because of my inability to meditate.” 

Jim gave him a sad look and it finally occurred to Spock that he had been thinking of him as Jim for several minutes now. “I know it doesn’t make a difference, but I like that you have feelings, Spock. Even full-blooded Vulcans have feelings. They don’t make you any less valuable.” 

“Thank you, captain.” 

“You’re welcome, Spock.” 

Silence fell between them again, but it was not comfortable like it often was. Suddenly, Spock remembered something his counterpart had told him about his own relationship with Jim Kirk. “When you have been released from medical, we could play chess if you are amenable.” 

“Oh, uh…”

Spock’s heart skipped as he realized the captain was not interested. “I was under the impression you enjoyed spending time with your friends off duty. This is the reason I offered.” 

“No, Spock, that’s not it. I just… Well, I don’t know how to play chess.” 

Spock completely forgot his embarrassment over being too interested in time with his captain in favor of wondering how his own Jim Kirk had managed to live several decades without ever learning chess. His disappointment was hopefully not apparent on his face. “Oh.” 

“I could probably learn,” Jim offered. 

“Should you desire, I could teach you the basics.” 

Jim smiled at him and Spock was overwhelmed again with the need to meditate. “That sounds good, Spock. Thank you.” 

“You are welcome, Jim.” 

The smile widened at the use of his name’s diminutive and Spock knew he would strive to use it off duty from now on. 

“So how’s our ship?” 

“Repairs are nearly finished,” Spock informed him and launched into an abbreviated version of the details before Doctor McCoy finally returned and knocked the captain out again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we can get away from the films for a bit. We won't hit Beyond until part three. And i literally might just say "movie goes here" instead of writing anything.


	11. Chapter 11

Jim glanced sideways at Spock as they stood on the teleporter pad, waiting to beam down to a brand new Class M planet. The captain was buzzing with excitement to find out what was down there. Sure, it was probably just plants and some exotic animals. Then again, maybe it would be some life-changing discovery. Or maybe they’d all get lungworm. 

Bones was irritated as usual, going on about boldly going into the unknown incisors of an exotic praying mantis on these new planets and Jim could tell even Spock was amused. They’d reached the point where Jim honestly wasn’t sure if Bones meant it or if he was just grumbling out of habit. Sometimes it felt like banter, like a game that the doctor played. He seemed to enjoy the response as much as the call. The man was constantly dreaming up new horrors that they never seemed to find. 

Per usual, the planet was beautiful. It was like stepping into an old rainforest, only the fauna seemed to consist mostly of birds, insects, and amphibians. Or at least things that Jim would classify that way, with his limited knowledge of natural biology. Spock was busy taking readings while Bones scanned everything in sight for potential disease and health hazards while Jim just took it all in. 

It was hot, yes, and even a little unpleasant due to the sticky humidity that seemed to cling to his skin and make it just a tiny bit harder to breathe. It was beautiful, too. The trees were draped in vines and foreign flowers that seemed to bloom in every color and direction. The sky itself was a perfect cerulean and the twin suns shone at just the right angle to catch the last of the morning dew on the flowers which had petals to collect it. There were a few that had bristly-looking tines that collected the droplets and looked like a shower of sparkles. 

Jim continued to wander (much to Bones’ annoyance) and discovered a pristine lake. The water was so clear, he could see down to the smooth pebbles shining at the bottom. There were plants in the lake as well, but no fish that he could see. He wondered if any of them lived in the plant life. 

A quick scan with his tricorder confirmed that the only life signs were flora. He scanned for contaminants and toxins and came up short. Jim glanced at Bones. 

“No,” the doctor insisted vehemently. “Oh, no. Absolutely not.” 

“Oh, come on, Bones! You don’t even know what I-“

“You want to go swimming.” 

“Okay, so you do know, but-“

“Jim, we don’t know what any of those plants-“

“Booooooooones,” Jim groaned the nickname in exasperation. “I’m going swimming. Feel free to grump around on the shore. I give you permission to let me die if I’m wrong and the perfectly safe scans of this water actually meant death and disease.” 

“Just because you didn’t come up with anything in the scan-“

“Permission to let me die,” Jim nodded and kicked off his shoes. There was no way he was going to miss a chance to swim in such a perfect pool. He folded his shirt haphazardly and piled it on top of his shoes before walking right in. Even the temperature was perfect. It was just cool enough to bring his temperature down and just warm enough to still be pleasant without shocking his system. 

He was doing the backstroke with a giant grin when Spock joined Bones on the shore. “Come on in, the water’s fine!” Jim called. 

“Spock is far too logical to join you in that death pool!” Bones shouted back. 

Jim stopped and began to tread water when he thought he heard, “Actually, doctor…” The rest was lost on him, but Jim saw Spock taking his shoes off and gave a holler of triumph. “Who’s illogical now?!” Jim called back to Bones. 

Once Spock was in the water, he began to go after the plants. Jim sighed. Well, he should know better than to expect Spock to do something purely for fun or relaxation. Bones watched them in a sort of frenetic irritation before finally ditching his shoes and joining them. Jim beamed at the doctor and began doing the backstroke again, away from Bones. Jim had a feeling the man was going to splash him up the nose or dunk him or some other unreasonably cruel tactic of revenge. 

Not caring that they were grown men, Jim immediately closed his eyes and shouted “Marco!” 

“Dammit, Jim. I’m a doctor, not a child!” McCoy shouted at him. 

So Jim began to swim toward him, calling “Marco!” 

“I am not playing some damn Earth game my pappy used to-“

“Gotcha!” Jim exclaimed as he wrapped Bones in a hug and dunked them both. When they came back up, Bones was spluttering and cursing, so Jim said, “You’re welcome, and also you’re it!” 

He swam away before the furious medic could hatch his plans of revenge. 

“Jim!” 

Spock chose that moment to resurface, holding a fistful of leaves. “Your eyes are open, and that did not sound like the name of an ancient explorer, Bones!” 

“Jim, you are lucky I got in this goddamn microbial nightmare in the first place-“

“Scans were clean!” 

“-so asking me to play some damn fool game-“

“It’s fun!” 

“-is not going to happen!” 

“Bones!” 

Spock took this moment to intercede. “Am I to conclude that you are attempting to play some kind of water game, but Doctor McCoy refuses to partake?” 

“You are absolutely to conclude that, Spock. It is the correct conclusion. Bones is a pool party pooper.” 

Spock flinched and raised an eyebrow. “Jim, I do not think the doctor would be so callous as to contaminate this body of water with human fecal matter.” 

“It’s an expression, Spock,” Jim sighed. 

“It does not make any sense.” 

He sighed again and could see Bones laughing at him. “Well, it’s what he is. I’m just trying to liven things up around here.” 

“I will play your game,” Spock stated. 

Jim couldn’t even be pleased by McCoy’s surprise because his own was too overwhelming. “You… what? You? A game?” 

“As I have been teaching you chess, it seems only fair for you to teach me this ancient explorer game.” 

Bones snorted and Jim knew exactly why. Marco Polo wasn’t exactly water chess. Still, he wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to see Spock do something ridiculous, illogical, or pointless. “Okay, so whoever’s ‘it’ has to close their eyes- and keep them closed- and they say ‘Marco.’ Then, everyone else has to call back ‘Polo,’ no matter what, without hesitation. The person who’s ‘it’ has to find everyone else by where their voices are, and everyone else has to avoid them for as long as possible.” 

Spock seemed deep in thought as he pondered the rules and Jim had to suppress an amused smile. It wasn’t supposed to be a strategy game. “Would it not be unsafe for the person whose eyes are closed?” 

“Should be fine unless you need your eyes to stay above water.” 

“And what about when the game leaves the water?” 

Jim shook his head. “No, it’s a water game only. If someone leaves the water, whoever’s ‘it’ can yell ‘fish out of water!’ and anyone who isn’t in the pond is out automatically.” 

Spock’s eyes narrowed as he realized how truly simple the game was, but he seemed determined to play it. “Allow me to bag these samples and then we will play.” 

Jim could barely contain himself. Spock was going to _play_ like a human child. The Vulcan’s idea of fun was solving math riddles. This was already the best day of Jim’s life. 

“Give me those,” McCoy grumbled. “I want no part of this childish nonsense.” 

“They must be bagged separately, and I would like them in water, without air.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Bones rolled his eyes. 

Spock turned on Jim, meeting his eyes. “So, who is ‘it’?” 

“Definitely you,” Jim told him and, on the look of argument on Spock’s face, Jim lied, “Oldest is always ‘it’ first. Them’s the rules, Spock.” 

It sounded good anyway. Besides, Jim wouldn’t be able to see Spock playing a kids’ game if his eyes were closed. 

“Very well.” 

“Okay, so close your eyes and count to ten. Then you can start calling.” 

As soon as Spock’s eyes disappeared behind his lids, Jim dunked himself noisily underwater and kicked his legs in one direction before diving deeper to swim silently in the opposite direction. He surfaced, forcing himself to breathe slowly so Spock would not hear him. Predictably, he saw Spock facing the direction his kick had indicated he’d go. Jim grinned, having far too much fun for a grown adult playing Marco Polo. 

Finally, Spock began to swim forward, calling “Marco!” 

“Polo,” Jim said calmly. It was worth everything to see Spock freeze in confusion as to how Jim could be on the opposite side of where he expected. Spock turned, but Jim was already slowly swimming to his left, doing his best not to splash or disturb the water. Misdirection would only work once, especially with someone as bright as Spock. 

“Marco.” 

“Polo.” 

Jim immediately began moving to his right, cursing mentally at the small sloshing sound that came with his change in direction. To his horror, Spock began to swim in the same direction Jim was heading. Of course. He’d gone to the left of where Spock had just heard and then came the sounds of switching direction. Spock was too good at this. 

Jim did the only thing he could do and stopped moving. Spock began to overshoot him just a bit. Slowly, Jim started backward, but then Spock called out another “Marco.” 

“Polo,” Jim mumbled. The pond was too small and there weren’t enough players. Spock immediately changed direction and Jim dove under, trying his best to get underneath Spock. The Vulcan immediately turned in the opposite direction, so Jim swam to the left, determined to do something at least somewhat unpredictable. 

The game went on for about five more minutes before Spock caught Jim’s ankle as he tried to swim away. Jim turned, crossing his legs since Spock was still holding his ankle and they locked eyes. “I believe you are now ‘it,’ Jim.” 

“Them’s the rules,” Jim agreed, even though he hadn’t told Spock that one. The Vulcan released him and Jim righted himself before shutting his eyes and counting. He listened as hard as he could, but there was absolutely no sound. Had Spock even moved? Jim turned in a circle, trying to see if perhaps a different angle for his ears might give him an advantage. Nothing. 

“Marco,” he said with determination. 

“Polo.” 

Jim whirled around. How had Spock gotten to the opposite side of the pond so quickly? He started swimming for the direction of Spock’s voice. “Marco.” 

“Polo.” Spock had gotten a quarter of the way round. “Marco,” Jim said. 

“Polo.” 

“Marco.” 

“Polo.” 

“Marco.” 

“Jim, you are not allowing me time to move.” 

“There’s no rules about how long I have to wait,” Jim argued. “Marco.” 

“Polo.” 

Spock sounded frustrated and, after a couple more Polo’s, he figured out why. “Fish out of-“ He was cut off by the sound of splashing. “Spock, you…” Jim laughed. “Alright, let’s go. Marco.” 

Before Spock could get his reply in, Bones interrupted. “While you two fish act like children, I’ll be taking a nap and drying out. Scream if you’re drowning and need an adult.” 

“Don’t tempt me, Bones!” Jim called and, before the doctor could give Spock more of an advantage- “Marco.” He did not stop repeating the first name, smirking to himself with the look of irritation he knew Spock had on his face as he was tracked moment to moment until Jim finally caught him and tried (unsuccessfully) to dunk him like he had Bones. 

“You did not inform me that we must embrace the person who is not ‘it’.” 

Jim sighed and released him. “It’s not. I was trying… never mind.” 

“I believe it is now my turn to be ‘it’,” Spock reminded Jim. The captain wondered if Spock’s cheeks were extra green because of the contact or because of the exertion of trying to outrun someone while having to constantly say a long-dead explorer’s surname. 

The captain had to up his game exponentially. Spock did not play into Jim’s (probably cheating) tactic, presumably because he liked the challenge. Still, Jim had to be constantly thinking, constantly strategizing to avoid being caught. He’d never imagined a simple kids’ game could be challenging (or this sustainably entertaining) but like so many other things, Spock made it so. Jim loved that about his first officer. The Vulcan challenged him and made him better in just about every aspect of his life. Even when they were nowhere near each other, Jim spent time studying just so he could keep up in conversation with the man. 

After several more rounds, Jim was starting to get tired and he could actually hear Bones snoring lightly on the shore. Tired of strategizing, he silently snuck up behind Spock, startling him when he said “Polo,” at the back of his neck. Jim chuckled and Spock whipped around, capturing the captain in his arms, but he didn’t dunk them. 

“That was a foolish tactic.” 

Jim couldn’t help but notice Spock still had him trapped, and he really didn’t mind. “I’m a fragile human and I was getting tired.” 

“You could have simply called off the game.” 

“But then we wouldn’t be here with you still holding me hostage.” 

Spock raised an eyebrow and released his captive. “You were enjoying it.” 

“What?” Jim spluttered, but his traitorous face was turning a deep red to undermine his shock. 

“Jim, Vulcans are touch telepaths. Any form of skin contact allows me to sense your feelings.” 

“Oh,” Jim said, his voice as high as his face was red. Spock didn’t seem perturbed in the least. “Is there a reason you do not wish to be hugged?” 

“It’s, um…”Jim cleared his throat. “Usually if two shirtless people hug, it considered to be a romantic thing.” 

He was really glad Spock wasn’t in contact with him since he was thinking about that light tickle of Spock’s chest hair against his own skin. Jim shivered a little. 

“You are cold,” Spock observed. 

Jim felt anything but cold. “I’m fine.” 

Spock moved closer, looking concerned. “Really, Spock. I’m fine.” 

“Perhaps we should have the doctor do some bioreadings.” 

Jim could only imagine Bones’ reaction to finding out Jim was having thoughts that were somewhere in the general vicinity of sexual thoughts about Spock of all people. Jim was so lost in that thought, that he completely missed his opportunity to dodge Spock’s hand as he felt for Jim’s temperature. 

Judging by the tint of green in the Vulcan’s cheeks, he’d discerned at least the general nature of Jim’s thoughts, which happened to involve body hair placed beside the chest. He cleared his throat nervously and tried to appear respectable as his cheeks burned unpleasantly. “I, um. Like I said, I’m fine.” 

“Of course,” Spock nodded. His voice was all professional and a little bit of Jim wilted. He didn’t even know he had those kinds of feelings for Spock, so it shouldn’t be such a disappointment to find they weren’t returned. It wasn’t like he’d had time to get his hopes up for anything. 

Jim did his best not to look at Spock while they dressed and they were silent as they made their way back to the transport location. Bones did most of the talking and Jim wondered if the man noticed. As soon as they returned to the ship, Spock excused himself to deal with his samples from the planet, but Jim couldn’t shake the notion that what he really wanted was to get away from Jim. 

“Alright, what happened?” Bones demanded. 

Jim shook his head. “It’s fine.” 

“It’s not fine, kid. Get your ass to my office. I’ve got a bottle of ten year old scotch I’ve been waiting for an excuse to open, and if that’s not a good bribe, I don’t know what is.” 

Jim gave him a sad smile. “When you’re right, you’re right.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because i can't even do fluff right?


	12. Chapter 12

Spock did not know what to do with himself. Meditation was becoming more and more difficult to the point where he really only sat and grew more frustrated. There was no calm to be gained from the exercise anymore, so he did his best to get through some of the ship’s paperwork, check on his experiments, document what he found in the botanical samples he’d taken, though he had been driven to complete and utter distraction. 

It had only been for a moment, but what he’d sensed from Jim was unmistakable. Spock would never have believed it if he hadn’t felt it himself, and he had no idea what to do with the information. At first, he’d been horrified. Had Jim felt this way all along? Had the captain been flirting with him, insisting Spock call him by the diminutive, or had he really only wanted to be Spock’s friend? More importantly, was the shame that went along with the man’s feelings because Spock knew now or because Jim did not want them? What if Jim did not want Spock? 

The thought was absolutely crushing. Spock did not need romance from his captain, but if they were truly t’hy’la as his counterpart had suggested, then he did need at least his friendship. Spock knew logically that he should speak to Jim and inform him of this, but logic had been escaping him more and more lately. So Spock had been avoiding Captain Kirk as much as possible. He’d dodged at least three probable invitations to chess, eliciting obvious disappointment from Jim. 

In effect, Spock was bringing the very thing he was afraid of on himself, for no reason. 

He resolved to remedy the situation as soon as his shift ended. Intent on this result, he tried to indicate to Jim that they should speak, but he was not on shift with Spock that morning. In fact, he had a message on his PADD from Doctor McCoy informing him that the captain was ill. That worried Spock more than anything else. Even when the captain was ill, he still attended his shifts. Something had to be terribly wrong. 

Impatience grew in him, displaying itself in humiliatingly human ways as Spock tapped his foot and fidgeted with his clothing more frequently throughout his shift. Nyota even expressed concern, but he could not face her either. Spock had a horrible feeling he was going to break things off with her, though he still felt love for her. 

Finally, finally, his shift finished and he headed immediately to the door a few meters from his own quarters and buzzed. He was shocked when the captain answered the door, looking tired but no worse for wear. 

“Spock.” Jim seemed mildly surprised to see him, and Spock was uncertain if he was pleased or not. The silence stretched on a little too long as Spock took in the dark circles under the man’s eyes and the slight tension in his brow. “Did you need something, Commander?” 

Spock felt his own eyebrows knit in slight tension. Since when did Jim refer to him by his title? Even on duty, he was Mister Spock. “Doctor McCoy said you were unwell. As you have previously worked while ill, I was concerned and wanted to ensure you were alright.” 

“I’m fine, Spock.” 

“Fine has variable definitions, Captain,” Spock stated. Something inside him was screaming and he wasn’t sure why. 

“Then I guess it fits no matter what.” 

“Perhaps,” Spock agreed. “Sir, I was also hoping to speak with you on a more personal matter.” 

The captain eyed him shrewdly, making his own conclusions. “Not now, Spock. I really don’t feel well.” 

“It is about our away mission.” 

“Yeah, I figured as much. Can we do this later?” 

Spock hesitated. It was clear his captain wanted to be left alone, but as he was still uncertain as to the captain’s health, Spock did not wish to leave. “I believe we may have had a misunderstanding and I wish to clear it up before matters are made worse.” 

“Relax, Spock,” Jim held up a hand. “There’s no misunderstanding.” 

Spock felt an actual headache beginning in his forehead. “Captain-“

“Spock, I don’t feel well. I really don’t want to do this now.” 

“If that is your wish,” Spock replied, feeling even worse than he had before. “I only wished to clarify… the situation. Perhaps there is no misunderstanding on your part, but I require further information.” 

“Okay,” the captain agreed, and he sounded pained. “But later, okay? Tomorrow, maybe?” 

“That is acceptable,” Spock stated, though it did not feel acceptable. “Thank you, captain.” 

The Vulcan turned quickly and left, though he did not head for his own quarters. He was afraid, of the emotions threatening to fly beyond his control, of Jim witnessing it, and of Jim himself. Though the idea of discussing these issues terrified him even more, the fear alone was reason to consult the doctor. 

“Spock.” 

Why did the doctor seem angry with him? Spock was accustomed to his brusque nature and the playful negativity and complaints, but this seemed genuine. 

“Doctor, I require medical assistance.” 

His demeanor changed only slightly toward the Vulcan. “What’s wrong with you?” 

Spock could not help but wonder if the question had a double meaning. “Could we speak more privately?” Spock asked uncertainly. Perhaps he should speak with someone else, but Spock already knew that Doctor McCoy had the most extensive knowledge of Vulcan biology of any of the ship’s medical personnel. 

The doctor nodded in response to the request and led Spock into one of the two private exam rooms. He waited expectantly and Spock actually shifted with his own nervous discomfort. 

“Well, Spock? What is it?” 

There was no logical reason to hesitate, he reminded himself. Doctor McCoy was a professional, even if he acted like a gossip. “I have been experiencing extreme, heightened emotions lately. I suspect it is due to my inability to meditate. At first I was unable to properly meditate, but now I am unable to reach even human levels of calm.” 

Finally, McCoy seemed to be paying attention. “How long?” 

“Since the destruction of Vulcan-that-was,” Spock stated. “Until recently, it has been manageable, but I worry that it will become problematic in the near future.” 

“What sort of emotions are we talking about here, Spock?” 

Spock turned his head in confusion. “Is that relevant?” 

v “Yes.” 

Spock wondered if it was, but he had already admitted most of his shame. Describing it should be no worse. “Fear, confusion, worry…” Spock hesitated. “As I do not often experience emotion, I am not able to accurately label all of it.” 

“That’s a lot of negative emotion,” McCoy acknowledged. “Any positive ones?” 

“Not at the moment.” 

McCoy grunted before scrolling through some files on his PADD. “I had heard something about Vulcans having issues since the planet went.” 

“I had hoped the problem would resolve itself without outside intervention,” Spock admitted. Illogical. 

“Most of the Vulcans having issues are ones who had bondmates,” McCoy remarked without looking up. “The issues stem from the broken bonds. I haven’t seen much else in the way of causes…”

“You are suggesting it is the broken link to my bondmate that is causing my issues.” 

“If you had one, it might.” 

“I did have one,” Spock stated, wondering how the doctor could not know such a basic cultural norm. “At a young age, all Vulcan children are paired off. These bonds can be contested later, but they are with us for our lives until then and after, if it is unbroken.” 

McCoy looked up. “But Uhura…?”

“My bondmate and I were not exactly fond of each other.” More accurately, she was not fond of him and he tried very hard to be indifferent about how unwanted he was by all Vulcans he’d ever met. For a moment, his mind attempted to argue the point of his father, but Spock had still not arrived at a conclusive status for his father’s thoughts on the matter. 

“How does that even work?” Doctor McCoy asked and Spock wondered if it was worth pointing out that he was here for medical reasons, not to edify the doctor on Vulcan culture. 

“I had a mental link with her. It was not exactly a strong link, but its loss has had some effect on me. I had not thought it a significant one, as I was preoccupied with the loss of my entire planet.” 

The doctor was finally shocked into silence and was prudent enough to look sorry for pushing. It took him a moment to find his way to professionalism once more. “From what I’ve read, the kind of psychic wound that a severed bond leaves behind isn’t something that I can treat. We’ll have to take you to Vulcan healers.” 

“I do not believe that to be an option, doctor. We are in the middle of a five year mission.” 

Doctor McCoy sighed. “I know that, Spock, but it’s only going to get worse.” 

“Doctor, the amount of time it would take to go backward-“

“Spock, I understand the logic behind it, alright? Good God, man. You’re obviously rattled if you’ve come to see me, so you know how serious this is. If we don’t get you help, at some point it will be too late.” 

Spock nodded and let the information settle for a moment. Too late could mean any number of things. Vulcan meditation was essential for well-being. So far, Spock was just experiencing heightened emotion. He did not know if his inability to meditate would result in death, madness, or both, but he would not be the first crew member lost on this mission. “I understand,” he finally said. 

“I’ll let Jim know that-“

“You will tell the captain nothing of my situation,” Spock interrupted. “The mission will continue.” 

“Spock-“

“Doctor, I understand your concerns, but I will remove myself from duty should I become unable to perform them at an adequate-“

“Spock, no mission is worth your life.” 

“And yet several crew members have already lost theirs. Doctor, my rank does not make me any more valuable than any other crew member.” 

“What about your status as an endangered species?” 

Spock shook his head. “I am half-human. It is possible that these emotions will be the only ill effect I suffer.” 

“Exactly, Spock! You’re half human! We have no idea what this is going to do to you. You could end up suffering more and in worse ways than-“

“Doctor, as I am still of sound mind and body, my medical decisions are my own. I will not argue this point further and you will maintain my medical confidentiality, even from the captain.” 

Doctor McCoy glared at him as if trying to will Spock into being incapacitated so that the Vulcan would be easier to argue with. “Fine, but the moment you start to lose it, Jim is going to know.” 

“Yes, I believe he will be one of the first to notice signs of erratic behavior.” 

“Dammit, man,” the doctor shook his head. He sounded sad now. “I wish you had any notion what this is going to do to him.” 

“You are referring to the loss of the Vulcan he calls Ty.” 

“I’m referring to the loss of the Vulcan he calls Spock, you green blooded hobgoblin. You’re important to him. He socializes like a butterfly to flowers, but in spite of all that he has about as many friends as a rabid dog. He keeps us close. Too close, if you ask me but no one ever does.” 

“The likelihood of my death is almost as low as the likelihood that he will care to know about my condition, doctor.” 

“If you believe that, you really are losing it, you damned elf.” 

“Thank you for your time, doctor. I would remind you of your duty to confidentiality, but I fear it will only result in another argument.” 

Spock stood and turned to leave when the doctor addressed him seriously. “Talk to him, Spock. Just talk to him about it.” 

“I have already attempted to do so, doctor. Our captain does not wish to see me and I suspect I am the reason he called off our shared shift today.” 

“Attempt again,” McCoy insisted. “And don’t take no. Jim’s about as open as a Christmas store in June. Sometimes, you have to find another way.” 

“Thank you, doctor.” 

“Thank me only if you’re going to listen to me.” 

Spock nodded and left. 

He felt nothing about the impending consequences of his condition, and that was his only consolation. Everything else was smothering him, however. He was worried about the captain and about Nyota. Before he could do anything irreversible, he turned toward his own quarters instead of hers. One of the terrible things he was feeling was impulsive. Spock wanted to end his romantic relationship with her. It seemed illogical to continue it even though his counterpart had assured him that Jim’s t’hy’la status did not need to be romantic. 

It felt romantic and Spock hated that more than anything. He hated that he wanted to pair their emotional closeness with physical closeness. Spock did not want to want any kind of physical closeness with anyone. Spock admired and respected his captain. He enjoyed their chess games and even their Dead Terran Explorers game. He even enjoyed simply sharing the bridge with the man. His presence was easy and comforting to Spock and the Vulcan had not a single inkling of when it had become less than everything he wanted. 

Spock found himself standing outside Jim’s room again, replaying the doctor’s words in his head. Talk to him. Find another way. So he tried another way. Stepping briefly into his own quarters, Spock packed up the chess set and returned to the hall to buzz Jim’s door again. 

There was no response, so Spock buzzed again. 

Just as he was trying to decide if he should try a third time, Jim opened the door looking angry. “I told you-“

“I am here to play chess,” Spock stated. “You are feeling unwell, and this is the least physically intensive distraction I can conceive. There will be no uncomfortable conversation. Only chess.” 

Spock took care to keep his face neutral as Jim contemplated the Vulcan’s promise. The first officer had no idea what to expect and he began to doubt this plan’s viability. Why would Jim want to play chess with him? 

“Okay.” 

For the first time in days, Spock relaxed a little. Jim was not yet lost to him. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even deal with this chapter. I literally went in like "It's Jim's birthday and he's gonna get drunk and do something stupid and Spock's gonna comfort him," and then... this.
> 
> I'm gonna stop posting here because i'm hoping to come home to comments with dick jokes ngl. (You'll get the rest when i get home, no worries.) I literally can't get through this chapter without laughing even though i tried to take it seriously. 
> 
> I mean, er... explicit sexual content? Look away?

Jim moved quickly from embarrassment to desperation to resentment. He’d been so eager to talk to Spock, to assure himself that everything was at least salvageable, but his first officer had been avoiding him at every turn. At first, he tried to convince himself that it didn’t mean anything, that Spock wasn’t intentionally avoiding him, but after a couple days it became an unavoidable conclusion. 

“The fact that I’m in love with him,” Jim slurred, “I can get over that. It’s that he doesn’t want to be anywhere near me that’s killing me, Bones. I mean that literally, so literally, as literally and literal can… literally. Every time I see him, it’s like my heart breaks.” 

“Jim, I’m sure he’s not intentionally-“

“Bones, any time I make eye contact, he looks away. Normally, he at least says goodbye at the end of shift, but now he avoids eye contact and practically _runs_. He hates me.” 

“He doesn’t hate you, kid.” 

“He knows I’m attracted to him and he hates me.” 

“Jim, just because it’s awkward now doesn’t mean he won’t come around.” 

Jim shook his head sadly and stared at the slowly drying bottom of his glass and the random words it magnified on the old book Bones had left open. It took him a full fifteen seconds to puzzle out the word _homeopathy_ and he shook his head to get the extra syllables out. “This is why I don’t do this, Bones. This is why I don’t do relationships. I don’t give people this kind of power over me.” 

“Jim, he just needs time to get over it.” 

“Bones, Spock is a fucking Vulcan. If he’s not over it by now, he’s not getting over it. He’s had plenty of time to logic his way through anything he plans on getting through.” 

“Maybe you should give the human half of him a little more credit.” 

Jim wanted to. He did. “He hates his human half. That’s probably why he hates me.” 

“Jim, I’m not going to keep going on like a broken record, here.” 

The captain knew he was being melodramatic, but Bones just _didn’t get it_. “Bones, you don’t get it,” Jim insisted. “I’ve known two Vulcans in my life and both off them liked how much more logical I was than other humans, how quickly I could set aside my emotions and make decisions when faced with overwhelming situations.” 

“You’re talking about that planet.” 

That planet. The doctor never mentioned it by name but they both knew what he was talking about. Somehow, it made it easier to talk about if he didn’t name it and how Bones knew that about Jim was beyond him, but he did. “So is it any wonder that, faced with the fact that I’m as emotional as every other human in the galaxy, he’s run the other way?” 

“Jim, it’s been two days. You’re not a mind reader.” 

“But he is. He knows exactly what I was feeling, and he’s avoiding me. You don’t have to be a mind reader to know what that means.” 

“You do, actually,” the doctor insisted. He took Jim’s glass away as if somehow he could get more drunk by staring at the empty vessel. “For all you know, Spock’s in the same boat- except that he’s been raised on Vulcan ideals and Vulcan notions. Who the hell knows what those robots teach about love, Jim?” 

Hope blossomed in Jim’s chest again. What if Spock did feel something for his captain? Like Bones said, he was Vulcan. He valued logic and order. Spock followed regulations as meticulously as Jim would ever let him. He wasn’t about to start a relationship with his captain, and he certainly wouldn’t know what to do about romantic feelings. 

Except he did. Spock and Uhura had been together for several years now. Spock wasn’t about to throw that away on a broken, baggage-laden captain who played chess with him a few times a week. 

“Thanks, Bones,” he replied in a quiet voice. “I should get back to my quarters. I’m not good company tonight.” 

“Jim, maybe you should take a day off.” 

The fact that he didn’t immediately object spoke volumes. Jim met his friend’s gaze and nodded. “That might help.” 

By the time Spock showed up at the captain’s door the next evening, Jim had made it from desperate to resentful. He knew he wasn’t being fair. Spock was trying to make it right and Jim shouldn’t hold it against him that he didn’t feel a certain way, but it killed him. It absolutely gutted Jim to think that Spock wanted to talk about their misunderstanding and try to let him down gently because Jim knew nothing about it would feel gentle. He’d had too long to pine alone, and he’d gotten too used to Spock, too comfortable around him. Jim had trusted Spock to be there, and he didn’t want to talk because he knew he’d have to tell the Vulcan that they had to return to being coworkers. 

He couldn’t be friends with Spock. 

Except that, once he turned Spock away, he already knew he couldn’t be nothing with Spock. That was infinitely worse. Jim loved his first officer, and being without him was more painful than having him at arm’s length. Still, he wasn’t ready for a talk. He couldn’t get through that just yet. 

Chess, however. Chess he could do. 

They worked together the next day and the day after that, capping each day with a game of chess. The games grew more challenging as the company grew easier. Jim felt less like a bomb about to go off when he had Spock, even if he couldn’t have him the way he truly wanted. It still stung to see Spock and Uhura exchange casual touches, but Jim convinced himself that he loved Spock enough to let him be happy. Spock’s happiness made Jim happy on some level, and that had to be enough. 

It wasn’t like Jim was destined for real happiness anyway. 

When they weren’t playing chess, Jim threw himself back into his studies so that he almost didn’t feel his birthday coming a week in advance. The day it hit, they were scheduled to make first contact with a new race who called themselves Ch’korals. They were pale green quadrupeds with long heads that either had no necks or necks that were the same width as their heads and they liked to party, which was exactly what Jim wanted. 

The denizens of Ch’Kora were slightly shorter than humans, but they made up for it in personality. Jim had too much fun flirting with a lady (probably) named Ch’Alh for the first half of the feast. She was one of the hosts (they weren’t called diplomats on Ch’Kora) and she’d definitely taken a liking to Jim. 

The locals had a drink called ch’foa which was some kind of alcohol and it had Jim buzzed after only one glass. He couldn’t stop staring at Ch’Alh’s hair. The Ch’korals’ hair only came out of one spot in the center of their heads so that it looked more like a tail than hair. They didn’t even let it splay out or hang loose. There was some kind of symbol of status that Jim was too drunk to think about in detail, but it involved the number of twists and ties and ornaments holding the rope of each Ch’koral’s hair. They did have four fingers and two opposable thumbs on each of their front feet, so Jim didn’t have to wonder how they managed such intricate hairstyling. 

Ch’Alh’s hair had a lot of fancy do-dads, so he knew she was pretty important people. He didn’t realize just how important until she began to talk business with him. “So, Jim, what exactly does an alliance with the Federation entail?” 

Jim pressed his lips together to cut off the chuckle that came up when she said tail. “That’s mostly up to the Ch’koral people,” he assured her. “The Federation has a few directives on how its members interact, but it is very much a symbiotic relationship.” 

She blushed green just like Spock. No, Jim couldn’t have that thought now about this race with whom they were establishing first contact. Besides, the Ch’Korals didn’t wear clothing and Jim hadn’t exactly gone looking, but he hadn’t spotted any compatible parts. Not that that would stop him under the right circumstances- which were looking closer and closer to correct the more ch’foa he drank. 

“What exactly would we be expected to contribute to the Federation?” Ch’Alh asked and turned her head so that the weird rope of hair fell to the side of her head and he couldn’t help but look at all the jewels. Were they still flirting? He honestly couldn’t tell anymore. 

“Our scientists wouldn’t mind studying your planet- unobtrusively, of course. Nothing would be taken from your planet or used without your fully informed consent. Plus, you’d have the benefit of Federation protection. Any type of aid you require, the Federation will do its best to provide.” 

“And do members of the Federation often need aid?” 

Jim tried not to think about Tarsus IV. He downed the rest of his drink in two large gulps. “From time to time.” 

“I do not wish to join the Federation if it means my people will inherit your enemies.” 

Her people. Shit. Ch’Alh was the hostest hostess. Jim recovered as quickly as he could. “Your people will be safe. The benefit of being in the Federation is that you also inherit our allies. We have friends in every corner of the galaxy these days, and a threat to any of us is a threat to all of us.” 

“Then we would be expected to defend other members?” 

“If you were capable, we would probably request it of you.” 

She stood and swung her head, motioning him to follow. “I am inclined to accept, but first we should adjourn to my personal hall.” 

That was the other thing Jim loved about the Ch’Korals. They partied so hard that their version of an office was just a smaller party room. Ch’Ahl’s was no different. The room itself was laid in a sandy golden brick with cushions and wide furniture (he assumed the four-legged creatures needed the space) and beautiful velvet-like curtains draped everywhere. She took a seat on a pile of cushions and gestured with her head again for Jim to join her in the pile. He complied easily, crossing his hands in his lap. 

“It’s really beautiful here, Ch’Ahl,” he told her. Jim was definitely, definitely drunk. “Your entire planet is like a dream come true.” 

“I am glad to hear you say so,” she said with a smile. She leaned forward so that her hair touched his leg and he had the distinct impression something he didn’t understand the cultural context of was happening. “I wish to mate with you, Jim Kirk.” 

Her bluntness was shocking. “I’m not exactly opposed,” Jim began nervously, “but I’d be violating about twenty different regulations if I did something like that during a first contact.” 

She moved closer so that her braid dragged along his thigh. “Would a second contact be preferable?” 

Jim shivered as her hair spurred goosebumps up his side. “It’s less about the amount of times I visit and more about, uh… “

“Yes?” 

“That’s just… really distracting.” 

“Ch’Koral hair shines because our natural oils contain aphrodisiac and pheromones,” she stated matter-of-factly. 

“Oh,” Jim replied in a high voice. He was trying very hard not to get hard. His efforts weren’t going very well. “Still, I’m here to establish diplomatic-“

“Is this not how the Federation handles diplomacy?” she asked and dragged her hair along his bare arm. Jim actually moaned. Between whatever was in her body chemistry and the booze, he was getting so turned on it made him dizzy. 

“N-not exactly.” 

She smiled and licked his face. Her mouth was almost as wide as her face, and her tongue was almost as wide as her mouth, so a full half of his face was now thoroughly licked. It should have grossed him out, but his erection jerked in appreciation. If he’d been in his right mind, he would have assumed her saliva contained the same cocktail as her hair. “This is how Ch’Koral form connections, Jim Kirk. My people and yours. We will join them.” 

This was first contact. Jim was supposed to respect other cultures, right? Having weird sex with an alien quadruped was definitely a diplomatic decision and had nothing to do with his raging hard-on. “Okay,” he agreed breathily. “How- how do we do this?” 

“Do the males of your species have organs for penetration?” 

She licked him again, slavering all over his neck. Jim knew this was weird even for him, but the rough texture combined with the slick moisture was intoxicating. Or, more likely, the pheromones involved were. It didn’t make a difference to Jim at this point. “Most of us do,” he nodded. 

“Do you, James Kirk?” 

Her tongue circled the front half of his neck like a scarf and he shuddered, barely keeping himself from orgasm. Whatever was in her bodily fluids was too much for his human biology. “Uh-huh,” he barely managed to get out. 

“Show me.” 

Jim eagerly complied. His trousers were uncomfortably tight, but he had to stop her. “Don’t lick that,” he begged. “That’s gonna end me.” 

So instead she licked his hip and he practically tore a pillow open. She grinned wickedly at him before turning to reveal that the small bump he’d thought was a tail was… not. The tip of it had dilated and he reached out to touch it, earning a _purr_ from her. “Please,” she begged. 

Jim hesitated before getting onto his knees (which already felt like spaghetti, thank you) and pressing against her. Her purrs grew in volume as he pressed inside her and he moaned almost as loudly as she did. He was trying desperately to last, but Jim wasn’t sure if he could make it. He tried to set a slow pace so he could get used to the beautiful feeling of her, but she began to move impatiently. Her purrs grew so intense they sounded like growls and reverberated through her whole body, straight to Jim’s cock. 

He didn’t stand a chance. 

Even after he came, she kept going and to Jim’s amazement (horror?) he stayed hard. The orgasm had cleared his head a little, given him more stamina, but he was also now keenly aware of the fact that he was having unprotected sex with an alien he didn’t know a few hours ago. Bones was going to kill him. 

The Ch’Koral currently riding him like it was life and death helped Jim not think about Bones for much longer than a second however, and he used his newfound stamina to pull his weight, grabbing her hips and picking up the pace to where she’d set it, moaning with her as he went a little harder. 

She leaned back and reached for his shirt, so he released her hips to ditch the offending article of clothing and she rewarded him with a lick the almost ran the length of his torso. Jim came again and again until finally she stiffened and her body clenched him painfully tight. This time, Jim let out a whimper. By the time she released him and collapsed in a quivering heap, Jim’s erection was gone and his dick was throbbing in pain that only seemed to intensify as blood rushed back in. 

Yeah, he definitely should not have had sex with the alien he hadn’t known that morning. 

She curled up to him and tried to soothe him with her tongue. It sort of helped, but mostly didn’t. “Fuck,” he stated. He wasn’t sure if he was talking about the situation or the pain. His senses had definitely come back to him, and he wasn’t even sure how to proceed from here. 

“My crew is going to be expecting me back,” he told her. 

“Stay with me until I sleep,” she requested. “There is a wash room through the door on the right you may use when I am done. You may consider our people joined.” 

When she was done? Done with what? With Jim? What else could she possibly do to him? “Th-thanks.” 

Fuck, his dick hurt. He was afraid to look at it. It took what felt like forever for her to fall asleep and even longer for Jim to extricate himself. He was limping as he gathered his clothes and found the washroom. The shower was so low the water only hit his belly and he had to squat to actually get under it. He forced himself to finally look down and it was not pretty. There was a thick purple bruise swollen around his cock and there was no way he was going to be able to hide that from his CMO. Jim really did not want to have _that_ lecture. 

He got dressed as quickly as he could and found Spock waiting down the hall looking pissed. That alone made Jim nervous. Even if Spock got pissed, he never actually looked like it. “Well, we have a new planet in the Federation,” Jim informed him. 

Spock turned, refusing to acknowledge the new information. He walked toward the exit without a word and if Jim hadn’t already known, he’d know then just how badly he’d fucked up. “Spock?” 

“I was unaware that sexual relations were required for negotiation,” his first stated in a tight voice. 

Jim felt his cheeks grow warm. “That’s their culture,” Jim mumbled in shame. “I didn’t exactly enjoy it.” 

“What I overheard from outside the door seems to contradict this,” Spock replied tersely. 

“Fuck,” Jim realized. “Look, it’s not like that. They have these pheromones…”

“I do not wish to hear the details. Please save them for Doctor McCoy.” 

Jim grew angry all of a sudden, stewing until they reached the departure point and he caught Spock’s arm before he could request transport. “Look, even if I did enjoy it, what does it matter? It got us new allies and it’s not like this is any different from my usual. I sleep around, Spock. I’m promiscuous, I take stupid risks, it’s who I am. If you don’t like who I am, then maybe you should spend less of your free time with me.” 

Spock stared at him, his glare slowly fading throughout the speech. “You are right, Captain,” he said and the title scared Jim more than anything. “However, what you fail to understand is that I can dislike your behavior and not you.” 

“Well, my behavior was the right call.” 

“Your behavior is unacceptable.” 

“Why?” Jim demanded. “Why is this unacceptable? Because it was a one-time thing? Because she’s someone I don’t know? Because news flash, Pointy, I’ve been doing that longer than I’ve known you.” 

“I do not appreciate when you use derisive nicknames, Jim.” 

“Tell me then, Spock. Tell me why this is different. Why is this so unacceptable? At least I accomplished something here.” 

“It is unacceptable because… I cannot explain.” 

Jim blew out an angry lungful of air. “Of course not. Well, look down on me all you want. I’m fine with this mission.” 

“You mistake me, Jim. I am not looking down on you. I realize now that I am being illogical and you are not to blame for my anger, though you have engaged in very risky behavior which as your first officer I must speak against.” 

Jim shook his head. “So if you’re not looking down on me, and I’m not to blame, what the hell is the problem, Spock?” 

The Vulcan fixed him with an intense stare before finally saying, “I am jealous.” 

Jim winced. “Trust me, there’s nothing to be jealous of. I’m not gonna sit right for days. If a Ch’Koral tries to seduce you, get away as fast as you can.” 

Jim rubbed his own hip absently as if the tender gesture might somehow transfer to the part of him that really hurt. Spock wasn’t done with him yet though. “Again you mistake me, Jim. I am not jealous of your relations with the Ch’Koral. I am jealous of her relations with you.” 

Jim took a second, trying to figure out what the hell Spock was saying to him. “Oh,” he finally realized. And then the weight of it hit him and he let out a more emphatic, “ _Oh_.”

“Yes,” Spock confirmed and he was avoiding eye contact now. Jim searched for a response for just a little too long because Spock managed to activate his communicator. “Mister Scott, two to beam up.” 

Jim tried to chase Spock down the hallway, but walking hurt more the faster he went or the bigger steps he took, so he was forced to slow down and limp his way to a Bones who, predictably, had a lot of four-letter words for his captain. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look, i'm home early from work where i didn't even bother to clock in because i should know better than to expect our truck to be on time anymore. (I kid you not, a couple weeks ago it was four days late after promising literally every day beforehand that it would be the next day.)
> 
> Your gain, i guess? But please still leave comments with dick jokes. I'm twelve today.

Spock did not deserve Nyota, which made it even more unjust when he finally broke things off. The incident on Ch’Kora made it infinitely clear to him that while Jim Kirk was around, he could not be happy with anyone else. 

“Honestly, I’ve been expecting this,” Nyota confessed, though his apparent predictability seemed to do nothing to dispel the tension in her shoulders or assuage the hurt in her voice. “I’m not really happy about it, but you’ve been getting distant for a while, Spock. Truthfully, I’m worried about you.” 

“There is no need,” Spock assured her. 

“Do you think I haven’t noticed, Spock? You told me you were having issues meditating, and I can see the changes in you. You’re tense. You fidget. You’ve been distancing yourself from me for a while now. You’re not alright, are you?” 

Spock blinked. Her words hit a little close to home. “It is true that my difficulties in meditation have caused my emotions to become more intense, but it is nothing I cannot handle. I am not the only Vulcan being affected in this way, and it is not the reason I’ve chosen to end things.” 

“Okay,” she replied, though it clearly wasn’t. “If you really want to do this, then we don’t see each other outside of work. It becomes strictly professional between us, Spock.” 

“That is acceptable.” 

“Okay then.” 

Spock nodded. He needed to leave now, but something in him did not want to let go of her yet. She could clearly sense that and, rising to the tips of her toes, she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. “If this turns out to be some side effect of you not meditating… I don’t know whether to say that I’ll never forgive you or that I’ll be here. I might not be.” 

“I do encourage you to find happiness wherever or with whomever you can,” Spock told her in a voice barely above a whisper. “I do wish the best for you, Nyota. I will abide by your terms of separation.” 

And he did. It should have been harder, but they had never been prone to PDA and they’d been seeing less and less of each other in recent memory. Working with her on the bridge was the same as always, though he did have one instance in which he had to prevent himself from extending his fingers to her for a subtle kiss. 

For once, his thoughts were not preoccupied with Jim Kirk, though it seemed like the most appropriate time for it. Spock did not approach the captain, but he did not avoid him either. Jim knew about Spock’s feelings now and he would do with that information what he would. Kaiidth. 

Spock was surprised when Jim entered the turbolift with him. It was neither pleasant nor unpleasant, simply a surprise. Spock had expected more time to pass before his captain wished to speak with him about what had happened on the planet. Apparently he had not completely underestimated the man as he did not manage to say anything until they arrived at the point where they normally separated to enter their own quarters. 

“Spock.” 

It was sudden and a little forceful. The Vulcan turned to the nervous human who didn’t seem to know how to say whatever he wanted to say, but who knew he couldn’t let it go unsaid. 

“Yes, Captain?” 

An agonizing struggle played out on the captain’s face for a brief moment before he said, “Would you like to play chess?” 

“That would be agreeable.” Spock gave him a small nod and headed into his quarters, leaving Jim to follow while he set up the board. 

As the door whooshed shut, it seemed to finally spur the human to speech. “About what happened on the planet, Spock.” 

“It is forgotten, Jim.” 

“Not by me,” he replied and Spock raised an eyebrow subconsciously at the way the man shifted as if something were wrong with his trousers. “What you said- what you told me. I, uh… Fuck, I’m bad at this.” 

Spock gave Jim his undivided attention, though this perhaps did nothing to settle the captain’s nerves. As the man continued to struggle for the right words, Spock decided to intervene. “Jim, whatever you are trying to say, you do not need to worry about my response. While I feel very deeply for you, it is enough simply to be in your life. If all we ever do is play chess, I will be alright. If you desire more, I will provide it. If not, you will receive no pressure from me.” 

Spock’s stomach ached with the confession, but he kept his face carefully neutral. Jim had enjoyed their hug. He had been aroused by it. Spock knew this indisputably. He also knew Jim felt shame in the same instance. The tension did not leave him even when Jim finally whispered, “I want more.” 

“You hesitate.” It was an observation Spock felt compelled to point out because Jim wanting him was too good to be true. “I am sincere in my intent to avoid pressuring you, Jim.” 

“I want more,” Jim said again, louder and without hesitation this time. He stepped forward and Spock’s breath caught in his lungs. “Bu you have Uhura and I just… don’t know how to do this,” Jim confessed as he deflated. 

Spock reached out to touch Jim’s face and could feel the fear and self-doubt. “Nyota and I are no longer together. As for ‘this,’ we do it in whatever way works,” Spock told him. “The only wrong way is a way which produces discomfort.” 

Jim chuckled quietly. “Only you could make it sound so simple.” 

Fondness crept in above the noise of Jim’s fear, but he could still feel that doubt. “It is that simple. You are t’hy’la, Jim. I will be whatever you want me to be to you.” 

Spock withdrew his hand as though stung. The term sparked a whirlwind of negative emotion in his captain that was dizzying even second hand. “Jim?” 

“That’s not… I’m not… Spock, why would you call me that?” 

A sick feeling that originated in his heart filled his stomach. “It is how I feel about you,” Spock explained, though his voice shook with uncertainty. 

“That’s not my name, Spock.” 

“It is not a name at all, Jim.” 

“It is, Spock. It is a name. I called him Ty.” 

Finally, Spock understood. “I will not use the term if it upsets you, ashayam. It is an old Vulcan word that describes my feelings for you. That is all I meant by it.” 

Jim nodded, but he was clearly perturbed. So Spock did what had elicited positive emotions from the man in the past: he hugged him. It worked. Jim wrapped his arms around the Vulcan and seemed to melt into him. 

Spock understood the positive emotions a hug could elicit because he felt them now himself. He did not wish to let go. Jim pulled away too soon, but he seemed calmer. 

“I’m sorry, Spock. Uh… just in case you hadn’t already gathered, I’m a mess. I’ve got a lot of baggage and there are a lot of things about me that are… broken.” 

“I do not mind, Jim. I am not perfect myself.” 

“Yeah, but I really can’t emphasize enough how… whatever, I am. I’m not easy to be with.” 

“I disagree. I find you extremely easy to be with.” 

“I’m not talking about playing chess, Spock. I’m talking about… me. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” 

“You are referring to what Starfleet has kept from your file.” Spock said it like a fact, but it was a question. 

“Among other things,” Jim agreed. 

“I recall you informing me you required alcohol in order to have this conversation,” Spock replied. “I could obtain some, but I do feel compelled to assure you that there is no rush. We have only just agreed to try this and you already seem to be attempting to convince me not to.” 

Spock was not sure what the wide-eyed look Jim gave him meant, but he thought it was good. “Maybe you know me better than I think you do.” 

“I am here until you ask me to leave,” Spock assured him. 

Jim swallowed visibly and he smiled a little. Spock felt himself returning the expression. “So… Chess?” 

Spock nodded his agreement and they sat down to play. He felt warm inside and it became apparent after their first game that neither was truly focused on strategy. “I find myself unusually distracted today, Jim.” 

“Me too, Spock.” 

“Perhaps an alternate form of entertainment?” 

Jim seemed confident now, and Spock was left wondering what had happened to the vulnerable Jim who had tried to talk Spock out of loving him earlier. “What exactly do you find so distracting?” his captain countered. 

“While we have agreed to change our dynamic, we do not appear to have taken any steps toward this end. I do enjoy our games, but we have both expressed a desire for more.” 

“I was thinking about kissing you,” Jim agreed, expressing what Spock had not quite figured out himself. 

“I would be amenable to this course of action.” 

Jim laughed a little and got up to lean around the chess set. Spock reached instinctively with his fingers, but Jim pressed his lips to Spock’s own. It wasn’t the first time Spock had kissed someone in the human way, but it was the first time he truly enjoyed it. Other human kisses were too messy or too rough, but Jim’s lips were soft and gentle against his. Spock found himself leaning forward with a dazed look when the man finally pulled away, sparking an amused twinkle in Jim’s eye. “I’ll do that more often, then.” 

Spock nodded. “That was… very enjoyable.” 

Jim gave him another brief kiss and Spock had no words. He reached two fingers out, wanting the small mental connection that came with a Vulcan kiss, but Jim didn’t seem to know what to do about it. “This is how Vulcans kiss,” Spock informed his captain. 

“You… that’s kind of…”

“It is less sexual, but far more intimate,” Spock replied defensively. “There is an exchange of emotion in a Vulcan kiss. We are touch telepaths, Jim.” 

Jim placed his fingers on Spock’s and the Vulcan sensed only endearment as the human shifted his fingers gently as though trying to mimic the motions of lips. “I was going to say sweet,” Jim assured him. 

Spock felt his cheeks warm as he smiled shyly and Jim beamed at him. The Vulcan knew at least some of his feelings would transfer to Jim when they kissed like this, but he was uncertain to what degree. Since Jim was psi-null, it would not be to the same degree as it was for Spock. 

Keeping their fingers entwined, Jim leaned forward to connect their lips as well and Spock _soared_. Jim smiled into the kiss and drew closer. 

Spock broke the kiss this time because it was overwhelming him, even if it was all good. Jim gave him a questioning look. “Too much,” Spock breathed. Jim’s self-doubt, Spock’s recently discovered arch nemesis, began to creep into his ashayam’s eyes. Spock acted quickly. “You are wonderful and I am extremely gratified to share this part of you. I am merely unaccustomed to this depth of feeling.” 

Spock was glad they were not touching, because he felt guilt. The doctor’s words rang in his head, warnings about how bad his condition could get, about what it would do to Jim if anything happened to him. 

“You okay?” 

“I am fine, Jim.” 

Fine has variable definitions. It was not a lie. 


	15. Chapter 15

Jim woke the next morning feeling amazing. His skin tingled with the feeling of _rightness_ and belonging. He didn’t know how he and Spock had ended up sharing the same bed that night, but he was grateful for it. Jim could not remember the last time he’d slept so peacefully. He curled against the Vulcan’s side and had his nose close enough to Spock’s hair that he shifted in order to bury it there. 

Jim breathed in and felt almost disappointed when Spock stirred. He closed his eyes and buried his entire face in Spock’s hair, deciding that hiding was definitely better than waking up. To his great satisfaction, Spock seemed to be in agreement as he shifted closer to Jim and mumbled something unintelligible. Jim pressed his lips against Spock’s head and held him a little closer. He’d never guessed a Vulcan could be so cuddly. 

It was a much better surprise than the sudden contact with his still-bruised groin. He flinched back and was wide awake now, and so was Spock. “Jim, are you-?”

“Fine,” Jim groaned, bent as if to protect himself from further harm. 

“You are in pain.” 

“Never have sex with a Ch’Koral,” Jim groaned. He took a few deep breaths and eased himself out of the bed. “It’s almost time to get up anyway.” 

He straightened his clothes as best as he could, walking gingerly as he gathered his shoes. Spock joined him and knelt beside the chair Jim had taken to lace on his footwear. Slender fingers brushed his face with concern. “You were hurt,” Spock realized. “I mistook the sounds I heard in that room for pleasure, Jim. If I had known-“

“No, you didn’t mistake anything,” Jim promised him. “It wasn’t… I was willing up until her end of it almost took my dick off.” 

Spock withdrew his fingers and Jim had a feeling he didn’t want to know what the Vulcan was thinking. “It didn’t mean anything,” Jim promised him. “That’s the thing about me, Spock. I have sex with people and it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just… fun.” 

Spock nodded, but Jim had a feeling that hadn’t helped. “You should see Doctor McCoy before alpha shift begins.” 

Jim nodded. He reached out his two fingers to kiss Spock in his own way and, after some hesitation, felt Spock’s jealousy and sadness. “I want whatever you want,” Jim assured him. “I just don’t want to rush this. I want it to mean something. I don’t want to fuck it up, Spock.” 

Spock nodded, and Jim could feel the shift in his feelings. The jealousy was still there, but now there was hope as well. Jim gave him a soft smile and withdrew his fingers before pressing his lips to Spock’s. Jim didn’t want to overwhelm him again. “Meet me for breakfast after I visit Bones?” 

Spock nodded with that vaguely dazed look on his face, so Jim kissed him again, making sure to connect their lips completely before parting as slowly as he could. He was tempted to do it again, but Jim knew himself well enough to know that would be a vicious cycle in which he and Spock ended up curled up in bed, missing their shift entirely. 

Jim passed into the bathroom which joined their quarters and combed his hair a little before Spock passed into his own room so that he wasn’t seen leaving Jim’s quarters first thing in the morning. He wasn’t ashamed and he was pretty sure they weren’t doing anything exactly wrong, but not everyone might see it that way. 

There was also the chance that there were actually some Starfleet regulations regarding captains and first officers dating. There certainly would be when they were found out. Jim could only hope they lasted that long.

When he got to medical, Bones was talking to Joanna. He arrived just in time to hear the gruff doctor say, “I love you, sweetie pie,” and Jim stopped dead when he saw the man throw the PADD across the room. 

“Jesus,” Jim breathed and Bones seemed startled to see him. “What did that woman do now?” 

It was established protocol that Jim never called Jocelyn by name, neither her actual name nor a derogatory one. However, there was only one person who could make Bones violent, especially after talking to the little girl he loved so much. 

“She’s dead,” Bones bit out and the air went out of Jim’s lungs. “She and Joanna were attacked last night. My little girl was hurt, Jim, and I wasn’t there to protect her and now I’m not there to make it better.” 

“Shit,” Jim breathed and immediately sat down. He’d met Joanna once. The little girl was bright and smart as a whip. She made Jim smile as easily as breathing and wanted to know everything. Jim actually had to look up the answer to one or two of her questions. “How bad is it?” 

Bones shook his head. “She’ll be alright, physically at least. She seems okay, but her mother’s dead and her father’s God knows where in the depths of space.” 

“Jocelyn’s parents?” 

“Both dead as of two years ago,” Bones muttered. “Jim, what if they put her in the system? What if they take my baby girl?” 

“That’s not happening,” Jim stated firmly. He’d barely thought about it before he knew exactly who to call. “I have some ideas, but I don’t want to get your hopes up, okay? I’ll send out some messages once I get through the stuff that’s overdue, but for now… I think it’ll be okay to have a drink or two even though it’s early.” 

Bones nodded but he didn’t move, so Jim pulled out the bottle of whiskey himself, pouring a small glass for himself and a fairly full one for Bones. Jim didn’t intend to get drunk or even buzzed, but hell if he was going to let his best friend drink alone at a time like this. 

“What happened?” Jim asked. 

Bones drank deep, letting out a ragged breath before giving Jim an exhausted look. “Her mother took her out for dinner and someone tried to take her on their way back to the train,” Bones said. “Jocelyn fought, was shot. Some bystanders overheard and help arrived in time to take the kidnappers in, but Joanna had been beaten and the phaser that shot her mother was set to kill.” 

“Jesus.” Jim couldn’t imagine what would drive someone to hurt an innocent kid, and his fist was clenched out of Bones’ view. 

“Say what you will about Jocelyn, but she was a good mother.” 

Jim nodded, not willing to bad mouth his best friend’s ex-wife when she had probably just saved little Joanna’s life. It might have cost her own, but she hadn’t meant to do it. At least Joanna would have that comfort, that her mom didn’t want to leave her. 

“We’ll turn around,” Jim decided. 

“We can’t do that, Jim,” Bones insisted. “Trust me, I’ve got plenty of reasons to turn this ship around, but we’re on a mission and, hate it as I might, I can’t be there for her right now. Not in person.” 

Jim nodded, though it troubled him to agree. “Let me send some messages,” Jim said, more to remind himself that he could still help somehow. “They’re not taking her away from you except over my dead body.” 

“Speaking of your dead body-“

“That’s not funny, Bones.” 

“The amount of circulation you lost down there, it’s practically a zombie.” 

“Not funny.” 

“A little funny,” Bones smirked, but he was putting on a face. Jim let him. 

“Yeah, well you wouldn’t think so if it was yours.” 

“I wouldn’t have had sex with a strange alien.” 

“Well, you- Yeah, okay, you wouldn’t have,” Jim deflated. He couldn’t really argue with that. 

Bones downed the rest of the drink Jim poured him before standing a bit unsteadily. “Come on, let me get my equipment and we’ll see how you’re healing.” 

Jim followed him into the exam room and ignored the awkward feeling as he began to take his trousers down. The bruising was still very visible, but it only hurt on contact now, which was any time he moved. Still, the pain from his boxers was bearable. Spock’s hip bumping into him was decidedly not. Judging from the wince that made it onto Bones’ professional mask, Jim could be doing better. 

“Kid, I am continuously impressed by the predicaments you get yourself into.” 

“It might just be my greatest strength,” Jim agreed. 

Bones headed to the replicator and programmed something into it. “This is going to hurt, and I’m going to let you take care of it. Put this cream on twice a day. I don’t really want to try the dermal regenerator because it can be unpredictable with subdermal bleeding like this.” 

“Wouldn’t want to lose it,” Jim agreed. 

“I also think you could stand to suffer a little punishment for that fool stunt and the resulting dick jokes I’ve had to endure as a result.” 

“Bones!” 

“Just take the cream, Jim.” 

“You don’t like jokes about my boner, Bones?” Jim smirked. 

Bones jabbed him in the chest. “I will drop this cream on it if you don’t take it.” 

Jim hurriedly grabbed the jar because if Spock’s hip lightly bumping him hurt as much as it had, he didn’t want to think about the tiny round jar landing on it from a two foot drop. “You are a cruel, cruel man.” 

“Good, I’ve worked very hard to be so.” 

Jim set the jar down and redressed. Once he was decent, he got serious again. (And, really, joking was the only way he could tolerate being half naked in front of his best friend.) “Listen, Bones. I’m going to fix this. We’ll find some place for Joanna to stay and then she can come with us on our next mission.” 

“I am not letting my little girl anywhere near the ship you are in charge of, Jim.” 

“Bones. Bones. It’s me I put in improbably dangerous situations, not the crew and definitely not their families.” 

“Maybe keep yourself safe too for a while and I’ll reconsider your trustworthiness.” 

“Okay,” Jim agreed, and Bones was clearly surprised by the serious look on his face. 

“Jesus, Jim. If I’d known that was all it took to get your damn fool ass in line, I would’ve tried it years ago.” 

Jim grinned. “Maybe you just caught me having a good day.” 

“With the pain you’ve got to be in, I doubt it.” 

“Hey, what’s a little pain, Bones? In the grand scheme of things, I’d rather suffer the pain of a Vulcan hip to the groin than sleep alone in my own bed.” 

Bones’ face was a cross between confused and angry. “What?” 

“Gotta run, Bones! Starship captain needs a good breakfast to start the day!” 

“Jim, hang on just a minute-“

“I’m late, Bones! I’m late!” 

The doctor threw up his hands and grumbled something about childish command officers and Jim left with a chuckle still in his throat. He was so fucking happy. 

When Jim got to the dining hall, Spock was nowhere to be found. He looked at the time and swore under his breath. He’d spent longer talking to Bones than he expected and was late for his shift. More importantly, he’d unintentionally stood Spock up without even a message telling him he wasn’t going to make it. 

Spock was perfectly professional to him on the bridge and Jim couldn’t tell if that meant something or not. He didn’t have time to overanalyze it though as they’d be arriving at the new planet they were surveying in a few hours and Jim needed to get through some paperwork and send some messages before then. 

He decided to send the message first, not quite sure how to ask a favor of this magnitude. So he settled on typing out, “So I know a little girl who just lost her mother and whose father is stuck a few thousand lightyears away. Know anyone who can take her in for a little while?” 

Jim managed to get through all four of his overdue reports before the reply came in. “Mr. Spock, you have the conn. There’s a message I need to take,” he stated with a meaningful nod. His first acknowledged easily and Jim shut himself in the ready room. It was an ironic location considering how completely not ready he was for Georgie’s face to appear on his PADD. 

She looked older and more tired. “Jim,” she said with a smile. “Nice to hear from you.” 

He smiled awkwardly. “It’s good to see you, Georgie.” 

She lifted a spoon to her mouth and he couldn’t help but recognize the kitchen he’d spent most of his teen years in. She was eating lunch, so she was probably just taking a break to eat and wouldn’t be able to talk long. “I hear you found me another wayward child to break my heart.” 

Jim’s face fell. “I was trying to do the right thing,” he promised. “I just… get mixed up about what that is sometimes.” 

“Looks like you turned out alright anyway.” 

He smiled self-consciously. “Debatable.” He looked at her face on the screen and realized just how much he missed her. “Anyway, Joanna is twice as smart as I was and nowhere near as much of an asshole. In fact, she’s a sweet kid. Make you smile as easily as breathing.” 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Jim. Telling me her name, making her sound like a treasure.” 

“It’s easy when it’s true.” 

“Easy on the charm there, Jim. I could use the help running the farm. I’d take her in even if Hutch’s arthritis wasn’t keeping him inside.” 

“Bet he loves that,” Jim chuckled. 

She shook her head fondly. “It really is good to see you, Jim. We’ve been following your career, you know. We worried about you when you left.” 

“You had good reason,” he agreed. “But I’m doing okay now. I’ve got people who care about me and I can’t run away from them since, you know, we’re in the middle of uncharted space.” 

She chuckled a little. “Good. Just promise me you’ll get in touch every now and then, huh? Not just when you need help. We want to celebrate the victories too, you know.” 

Jim nodded. “Me too. I’ll introduce you to my CMO later. Joanna’s his little girl and he’ll be glad to know there’s some good people who can take her in.” 

Georgie nodded. “I’ve got some beans to walk, but I should be free around seven o’clock tonight.” 

Jim touched the screen longingly. Georgie was more of a mother to him than Winona had ever been (though he knew she’d done her best) and he missed her more than he thought possible. “I’ll make sure we’re free,” Jim agreed. “Let Hutch know I haven’t forgot that I owe him some whiskey.” 

She gave him a frown, but there was a fondness underneath it. “I’ll talk to you later, Jim.” 

“I look forward to it.” Jim’s face was soft even after the transmission ended. Now he just had to talk Bones into it. Shouldn’t be too hard. He’d open up, tell Bones how rough he’d been and how much they’d done for him and the crotchetiest doctor he knew would melt. 

When he returned to the bridge, he was smiling a little and there was a question in his first officer’s eyes. He shook his head to mean he’d explain later. Jim should probably have given Georgie a head’s up about how Joanna’s mother died, but that could wait. 

They broke for the day and Jim immediately cornered Spock in the turbolift, blocking the rest of the crew from leaving with them. “Captain-“

Jim pressed his lips to Spock’s in a brief kiss. “I needed to get you alone,” he insisted. “I owe you an apology, and the sooner the better. Bones had a family emergency and I should have let you know I was running late. I won’t leave you alone like that again.” 

Spock acknowledged the apology with a slight incline of his head before asking, “Family emergency?” 

“His ex-wife was killed when someone attacked his little girl,” Jim said and explained the whole situation. Spock took his hand as he spoke and did not release it until the turbolift came to a stop. “I have to go talk to him, okay? Do you, um. Do you want to come?” 

“I am not certain I will be welcome.” 

“Relax, I implied that we slept together last night. He’ll be thrilled.” 

“We did sleep together last night,” Spock pointed out. 

“Yeah,” Jim agreed with a secret smile. “We did.” 

He walked a little bit closer to Spock as they made their way down the hall. They were almost touching, and Jim felt electricity in the space between them. There was alcohol on the doctor’s breath which Spock obviously disapproved of, though thankfully he said nothing. 

“About damn time,” Bones grumbled. 

“Doctor, we came straight here from the bridge.” 

“I’m talking about you two finally getting your heads out of your asses. Playing middleman between two idiots who can’t see they’re pining after each other is exhausting.” 

Jim felt his cheeks heat up and he was pretty sure Spock had a similar reaction. He’d have to ask about that later. 

“Listen, Bones, I’ve got a story to tell you and it’s relevant to Joanna in a tangential kind of way.” 

“Okay,” he said and waited where he was. 

“Maybe in your office, though?” Jim suggested. 

Bones rolled his eyes and let out a put-upon sigh before leading them both in. “Is this a long story?” 

Jim felt a little self-conscious now. It was a personal story, and one he wanted Spock to hear too. “It’s a difficult story,” he said quietly. 

Bones gave him a serious look and Jim was relieved to see the receptiveness enter his eyes. That would make it easier to tell him one of the things he carried in the corner of his mind reserved solely for shame. They all took seats and Jim could tell Spock was at least as curious as Bones and he tried to ignore the cold feeling developing in his feet. 

“So you both know I was on that planet and that it, uh, messed me up,” Jim began. “You’ve seen me now, but I was much worse when I first got back. I was a terror from day one, even before I went to, uh,” Jim cleared his throat. It was just a name. “To Tarsus.” 

Both of them were paying very close attention now but neither spoke. Jim shifted in his seat and wondered if they realized just how easily he could be scared off a story like this. “I got sent there as a punishment, but I was thrilled to leave Earth. My mom is Starfleet as you know, and she’d leave me with her brother when she went off-planet, which was most of the time. He was the only family we really had around, and he was her brother, so… She didn’t know that he’d get drunk and hit me.” 

Jim didn’t look at either of them now. He felt small and pathetic, like he was back in that house pleading to be left alone. So he pretended he was alone as he spoke. “I don’t know if either of you followed the news back then, but I ran away from home after that planet and they painted it as an abduction. It was easier to believe someone had taken me than that I’d killed my own uncle and was on the run from the consequences.” 

Jim startled as Bones moved. He’d actually managed to convince himself he was alone. With a shuddering breath, he forced himself to go on. “The truth was that he got sick of me acting out. I was skipping school and doing probably-illegal drugs and he decided to teach me a lesson. Except I’d learned how to fight back on that planet, so that’s what I did. I fought back. It was an accident. I’m not a monster. All I did was push back. He was drunk and he fell down the stairs.” Jim cleared his throat and finally looked up at Bones. He still wasn’t ready to look at Spock. “Anyway, the reason I’m telling you all that is so you know just how messed up I was when Hutch found me sleeping in a ditch.” 

Bones finally spoke. “Hutch?” 

“Hutch and Georgie own a farm in Iowa,” Jim nodded. “They took me in after that and kept me when my mom went off planet. They gave me purpose and support as much as they could. They’re good people and they’re the reason I didn’t throw myself off a cliff years ago. I wouldn’t be half the man I am today without them. And they’re willing to take Joanna in.” 

Bones was silent as he tried to digest the massive amount of information his friend had given him. This was the most Jim had told him about his past in all the years they’d been friends and it had been crammed into just a few minutes. Sure, Bones knew Jim was damaged, but he didn’t know how extensive it was. He hadn’t expected Jim to face hardship outside of Tarsus IV. Or maybe he had. Still, it was obviously a lot to take in. 

“I don’t know what to say, Jim.” 

“You don’t have to agree right away,” Jim assured him. “They can meet for a transmission in about an hour and you can get to know them yourself.” 

“I mean about the rest of it, Jim. I had no idea.” 

Jim shrugged, determined not to get pulled under. “Why would you? Anyway, I just wanted you to know that Georgie and Hutch have experience with taking care of traumatized kids. They’re good at it. Their patience, god Bones, if I’d been in their shoes I would’ve killed me or at least kicked me out. I was a complete shit at times.” 

“You were dealing with trauma.” 

“I don’t know if dealing is the right word, but that’s not the point. Joanna would be in good hands with them.” 

Bones nodded. “I’m sold. I’m sure you knew I would be.” 

“You’ve been trying to pry the past out of me since the Academy. All I did was give you what you wanted.” 

Spock had been silent through the whole exchange and Jim finally glanced at him. He wasn’t looking at either of them. “Spock?” 

The Vulcan startled out of his thoughts and looked at Jim. “Yes, Jim?” 

“You okay?” 

Spock raised an eyebrow as if to question the idea of Jim asking him that question instead of the other way around. “I am fine, Jim.” 

“Actually, there’s something I’d like to talk to Spock about alone,” Bones said casually. Too casually. Jim narrowed his eyes at his CMO before standing. 

“I guess I’ll head to the mess and hopefully Spock won’t stand me up like I did him this morning.” 

“I will not,” Spock confirmed and Jim was forced to awkwardly exit the office. He felt like he was flying without a tether and not in a good way. He looked erratically around the med bay before exiting stiffly. The weight of what he’d just confessed was hitting him hard and he couldn’t help but wonder if they were talking about him and what he’d just said. Worse, what if Bones was giving Spock some kind of antiquated hurt-him-and-I’ll-break-your-arms speech? 

Jim realized as he arrived at his quarters that he’d skipped the crowds of the mess hall entirely. As if on autopilot, he entered, kicked off his shoes, and crawled into his bed. Only his promise to Spock got him to reach outside the nest of blankets for his PADD to send a quick message to let Spock know he wasn’t feeling well and had skipped dinner. 


	16. Chapter 16

Spock was struggling for control. To hear Jim brush off such a story as though it meant nothing made it clear that it was to him. It was painful to think of what his t’hy’la had suffered before Spock had known him, and he was so angry. Not only had Jim been so mistreated, but there was no justice for it. No one had been punished. Some might argue that death was the ultimate punishment, but Spock was not one of them. Never would the man who had abused Jim as a young child have to face his crimes. Never would he be made to understood just what a heinous thing he had done. Never would he have to pay for it in a way he would be conscious of. 

Jim’s voice was what brought him out of his thoughts and seeing those eyes, that self-doubt he was coming to know and hate, was what finally calmed him. Jim needed to know he could count on Spock. He could maintain his control for Jim. 

As soon as the door closed, Doctor McCoy lit into him. “You’re going to tell him now.” 

“Doctor, I will not allow his judgment-“

“He’s the captain and you are extremely important to him. Without appropriate medical attention, you could die, Spock.” 

“The likelihood-“

“I don’t give a goddamn rat’s ass what the likelihood is, Spock! That kid has been losing people he loves since the literal minute he was born! You haven’t seen him bad yet, Spock. You haven’t seen Jim hurting and low and dysfunctional. You want to know why he probably had sex with that alien? It was his goddamn birthday, worst day of the year for him. When Jim gets upset, he either falls apart or he does something stupid and self-destructive to take his mind off it, and I am not willing to find out what he does if someone else dies. He’s let you in, Spock. Do you know how big that club is? Two. Both members are sitting right here.” 

Spock blinked. He did not know it had been Jim’s birthday. Vulcans did not celebrate such anniversaries, but he knew that many humans made special arrangements and had celebrations. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that it would be a tragic reminder for the man. “Doctor… I do not wish to worry him.” 

“Here’s a secret, Spock. Jim is always worried. About you, about me, about the crew. Hell, he’s probably worried about Joanna and he only met her the once. Tell him or I will.” 

“Doctor, my medical information is confidential. You cannot share it with anyone except myself or a designated medical proxy.” 

“Unless I think you pose a risk to yourself or others. Right now, I think you pose a risk to both. You need treatment, Spock. It’s only going to get worse.” 

Spock clenched his jaw and he knew the doctor was right. His reactions were growing more human and he was growing more out of control. “Very well,” he finally agreed. “But I ask that you allow me to tell him.” 

“That’d be best.” 

Spock nodded and headed to the canteen. His PADD alerted him to a new message while he was walking and he saw it was from Jim. Spock did not believe for a moment that Jim’s feeling of unwellness was physical. He knew the man at least well enough to assume that the story had affected him more than he let on. Well, he was not about to allow Jim to do something self-destructive. 

Spock fixed a plate of foods he’d seen Jim eat on previous occasions and headed to the captain’s quarters. He buzzed twice with no response, and decided to take matters into his own hands. Like McCoy had previously advised him, he had to find another way in. 

Passing through their shared bathroom, he was saddened to find Jim was both awake and hiding under his blankets in the dark. “I brought you sustenance,” he said, his voice as dim as the lights. 

“I can’t, Spock. I feel sick.” 

Spock sat down on the bed. “This is an emotional response to what you told the doctor and myself, is it not? Jim…” Spock searched for words, but nothing could make this situation right, so he decided to offer words that might mean something instead of empty reassurances. “I feel much anger toward the one who hurt you, and who still manages to hurt you in spite of not being here.” 

“Thanks, Spock,” Jim said quietly. “But I didn’t tell that story to make you angry. I just wanted Bones to know Joanna would be in good hands.” 

“Then why did you desire my presence?” Spock pressed. 

Jim reached a hand from under his blanket and touched Spock’s, tracing the back of it back and forth as he flexed and pointed his fingers. “I always desire your presence.” 

Spock turned his hand palm up and closed his fingers around Jim’s. “I am glad to know this part of you,” Spock informed him. “Even if you merely desired my presence.” 

Jim scooted back and pulled the blanket back. “Stay with me?” 

Spock looked at the plate he’d left on the night stand. “I am amenable, but it would gratify me if you were to attempt to eat something.” 

For a moment, Spock was certain Jim was going to decline or argue with him, but instead he sat up and scooted up the bed to lean against the wall as he took the plate. Spock smiled encouragingly. He knew what he’d promised the doctor, but he couldn’t tell Jim now, not when he was already having such a hard night. 

“When I was young,” Spock began, “My peers took it upon themselves to prove that I was too Human. I am uncertain what purpose it served, but they would taunt and insult me. Occasionally I was physically assaulted. Their goal was to elicit an emotional response. For the most part, they failed but they did learn that the most likely way to achieve their goals was to disparage those who I hold dear. My mother in particular, as a human, was a frequent target.” 

Jim had stopped eating, which was the opposite of Spock’s intent. “That’s terrible. What’s logical about bullying a kid?” 

“I suspect it was an experiment for them. As a human-Vulcan hybrid, I am unique to my people. I am surprised the elders did not study me further.” 

“Further?” 

“I only wanted you to know that you were not alone,” Spock said. “My experiences do not compare to your own, but… Well, I thought you deserved to know.” 

“Thank you for telling me,” Jim said. An uncomfortable silence fell and Spock was pleased to see it resulted in Jim eating a bit more. “Shit, what time is it? Georgie and Hutch are supposed to call and talk to Bones.” 

“It is eighteen-hundred and twenty,” Spock informed him without looking at a clock. 

“I should head down in about half an hour…”

“Then that is half an hour that you may eat and rest,” Spock informed him. To incentivize both, he laid down next to where Jim was sitting, close enough so that they were touching. He had not anticipated that this would result in Jim abandoning the food entirely to slide down the bed to lie down with him. “Jim…”

“This is more important than food,” the young captain assured him, and Spock was disinclined to argue as Jim started to play with his hair. No one had ever done this sort of thing and it sent chills down his back in a very good way. “Besides, I can eat anytime. I can only do this when we’re alone.” Jim pressed his lips to Spock’s and then curled closer. 

Spock had to admit his argument was logical. “You are using unjust negotiation tactics,” Spock informed him, but Jim only laughed and kept running his fingers through the Vulcan’s hair. He let his eyes fall shut and curled subconsciously toward Jim, leaning into the sensation. Hooking an arm over Jim’s waist, Spock pulled him closer so that there was almost no space between them. 

“You’re using unjust cuddling tactics,” Jim teased him. “I couldn’t move you like that if I tried.” 

Spock opened his eyes to meet Jim’s which were twinkling with mischief. “Do you object to the shift?” 

Jim’s fingers traced goosebumps down Spock’s arm. “No.” 

Spock smiled at him and shut his eyes again. “Good.” He did not think most couples immediately spent this much time making physical contact, but then again he was not about to insist they stop. Spock was also not entirely familiar with human courtship. Humans were far more tactile than Vulcans in any situation- a fact which Spock was beginning to appreciate more by the day. 

Spock felt Jim’s nose near his neck and heard him inhaling. This was something he did not understand, though he knew humans were very driven by all of their senses, smell not the least of them. So Spock allowed Jim to take in his scent and simply enjoyed the slight tickle of air that accompanied the action. 

They laid together quietly, exchanging gentle touches for the full half hour and Spock was very disappointed when it ended, though he felt infinitely calmer and more relaxed. It was almost the level of calm he felt after meditating, not that he could completely remember what that felt like at this point. 

He remained in the bed even after Jim had left, wondering how long he would be gone. Spock did not want to leave the warmth, but the empty spot where Jim had been slowly cooled to room temperature and Spock had work to do. He’d rather do it now so he could spend more time with Jim later. 

There were several planets in the system they’d arrived at earlier in the day and reports on them were finally coming in. Spock reviewed the Class M planet first, noting that there appeared to be no life forms at all- not even plant life. This was strange for a Class M planet and could indicate danger or toxicity that their scanners could not pick up. No doubt Jim would want to investigate it immediately and end up injured. Spock shook his head slightly and wished his t’hy’la did not have such a penchant for getting hurt. 

Two of the other three planets were rich with mined resources, including dilithium. The Federation would be extremely interested in that. The fourth and final planet had some form of magnetic interference that made it impossible to get a decent scan of what was down there. This could be indicative of more useful materials, or it could be indicative of people who did not want to be found. Their captain would undoubtedly jump at the opportunity to discover just what was causing the interference and what it was hiding. Spock only hoped it didn’t jump back. 

Of course, there was one sure way to decrease the odds of Jim endangering himself on one of those planets. Spock could tell him that he needed to see Vulcan mind healers. 

Spock made up his mind to tell Jim and was absolutely ready… right up until the man was standing in front of him. What if the healers wanted to keep Spock? Jim would then return to this system and face those dangers without his first officer. 

“You’re still here,” Jim smiled by way of greeting. 

Spock couldn’t help but smile back. “It seemed illogical to leave when the likelihood of my returning was so high.” 

Jim chuckled a little and it warmed Spock. If all he ever did for the rest of his life was make Jim smile, it would be enough. Logically, he knew this to be untrue, but in that moment it was all he desired. Then Jim extended his fingers and Spock eagerly met them with his own. Jim shivered and Spock knew the human could feel the weighty love he was projecting. Maybe it was too soon to feel so much, but they had been friends so long… Spock loved Jim before this relationship. He knew the man as well as he possibly could, which was better than most. 

Unable to help himself, Spock leaned forward to press their lips together without breaking their other kiss. It was overwhelming as it had been before, but he felt more level and able to control it since the half hour they spent together earlier. Jim smiled against Spock’s lips and the Vulcan mimicked the expression. He had been wrong. There was something better than making Jim smile: causing Jim to smile while they kissed. 

“You like making me smile, huh?” Jim teased him and Spock was so startled he broke away. “Spock?” 

“I’m sorry, Jim, but… How did you-?”

“I just… knew what you were thinking. Isn’t that the point of…?” Jim gestured with his two fingers and Spock wondered if he realized it was a kiss. 

“Emotions transfer through the kiss, yes,” Spock confirmed. “Not thoughts… that kind of connection… Jim, I know you do not like the word, but I think this is further evidence that we are t’hy’la.” 

“Spock-“

“Do you know what the word means, Jim?” 

Spock hated this conversation. He knew it only caused Jim pain, but he needed the man to understand just how significant their situation was, how singular and fascinating and precious. 

“It means a friend who bled out in my arms, Spock,” Jim replied and the Vulcan could see he was shaking. “Because of me.” 

Spock immediately moved to embrace him, but Jim held up a hand. Spock stopped as though the hand were a solid wall. “Jim.” 

“Spock, do not.” 

Taking a step back, Spock looked at him helplessly. “I am sorry,” he whispered. 

“You know what that name means to me, Spock,” Jim accused, and Spock was surprised to hear the anger there. “You know and you keep trying to force it on me.” 

“Jim, I did not know, not really. I am sorry. I will not mention it again. I promise you.” 

Jim opened and shut his mouth, but he was clearly too upset to form any more accusations. Finally, he seemed to have calmed at least a little as he nodded and stepped forward. Spock watched him anxiously, not knowing which Jim he was facing. “I’m sorry,” Jim told him. “It’s just… You were right. Talking about my past gets to me and I know you weren’t trying to upset me. You should probably go back to your own quarters. I’m not going to be good company tonight.” 

“If that is what you wish, I will leave. However, I would be happy to stay, Jim. Contrary to what you believe, your unhappiness gives me more desire to stay. I am worried for you.” 

“Happy?” 

Spock gave him a small smile. “I am always happy to be with you, Jim.” 

“Give it time,” Jim replied, and Spock wasn’t sure if he meant it or not. Hesitantly, he moved forward and was grateful when Jim closed the distance and wrapped him in a hug. Spock had been very afraid he’d ruined things, and he did not wish to feel that way ever again. 

“May I stay with you tonight?” he murmured by Jim’s ear. 

Jim nuzzled into his neck. “Yes.” 

Spock relaxed against him. He didn’t know how long they stood there. Normally, his internal sense of time was impeccable but it had been getting more approximate- and when he and Jim were like this? It went completely haywire. Spock shivered at the feeling of Jim’s breath on his neck. He placed a gentle kiss beneath the captain’s jaw before tugging him toward the bed. His own shoes were still neatly placed at the foot of the bed, but Jim toed his off along the way and left them right where he’d stepped out of them. They weren’t even next to each other. 

“Too much chaos?” Jim teased him. “Do you want me to straighten them up?” 

“No, it is fine,” Spock replied. “You should keep your quarters however you see fit.” 

Jim opened his mouth in exaggerated offense. “Are you suggesting I’m messy, Spock?” 

“I am suggesting we should lay down and resume our earlier activities.” 

“You want to cuddle.” 

Jim was teasing him again, but it would not work if Spock was unbothered. “Yes.” He climbed into the bed and scooted over so that Jim could join him. 

“A Vulcan who likes cuddling, wait until I tell Bones. He’ll probably faint.” 

“I find the end result to be very similar to meditation,” Spock explained as the captain finally joined him and he could pull him into a hug. “I have no doubt the doctor will approve of any such activity which provides me with such results.” 

Jim gave him a concerned look as he started to play with Spock’s hair again. “Are you still having trouble meditating?” 

Spock shut his eyes and leaned into the touch. “It has become a common problem among Vulcans who have lost their mates.” 

“Mates-? Wait, what?” 

“It is nothing to be concerned with, Jim. As young children we are all bonded to another Vulcan. T’Pring did not like me and I was not terribly fond of her either. The lack of the bond, however… It has been with me for most of my life and its absence does affect me. It has changed the very structure of my mind and to have the sudden loss of it…”

Jim nodded against his forehead as he scratched gently at Spock’s scalp. The Vulcan shuddered as chills went down his spine. “I cannot say I regret the loss of my bondmate, however. Her thoughts were not always pleasant and I am gratified not to share them any longer.” 

Jim kissed him gently. “I am gratified that you’re not married to some strange Vulcan anymore.” 

Spock traced Jim’s back and shoulders, reveling in the captain’s reaction to snuggle closer. Spock made a mental note to figure out what other sorts of things he could do to elicit similar responses. “It is not quite a marriage,” Spock replied. “Marriages can be broken. A bond cannot.” 

“But if she’s…?”

“There is a link in my mind which goes nowhere,” Spock said sadly. “As much as I did not appreciate her, I still feel a lack. I am unbalanced.” 

“Should I be worried?” Jim asked with a nervous laugh. It took Spock just a moment too long to reply and Jim picked up on it too quickly. “Spock?” 

“Doctor McCoy and I are in disagreement about the immediacy of my condition.” 

“Wait,” Jim said. “Condition? As in, this is something you talked to Bones about? You were worried enough to seek medical advice?” 

“Jim, it is not worth abandoning our mission.” 

“What isn’t?” Jim challenged. “Spock, what exactly are the risks here? I think I can decide if the risks-“

“Jim, I assure you the risks to my health are low. Doctor McCoy is prone to worst case scenarios which are so unlikely as to be ridiculous in nature, as you know.” 

“And what was his worst scenario, Spock?” 

Spock hesitated again and felt Jim pull away just a bit in order to better lock eyes with him. “Jim…”

“What is it, Spock?” 

“Madness and death.” 

Jim’s eyes widened and he opened and closed his mouth. He shook his head and immediately climbed out of the bed to pull his shoes on as he spoke. “And what did McCoy suggest in terms of treatment?” 

“Jim, the likelihood of either of those options-“

“What, Spock?” 

“Especially now. The time we spend together produces very similar results to meditation for me.” 

“Spock, what did the doctor want you to do?” 

“These outcomes are only possible without centering and calming, which-“

“Spock, if you don’t tell me I’ll wake him up and ask him myself.” 

“He wants me to go to New Vulcan and see the mind healers there.” 

Jim nodded and headed for the door. 

“Jim, if I go there, they may not allow me to return to Starfleet.” 

“At least you’ll be alive and sane, Spock.” 

“Their method of treatment will likely be to establish another bond with another Vulcan who I do not know and will likely hate me as much a T’Pring did.” 

That got the captain’s attention as Spock knew it would. “Spock, if the alternative is death…”

“Jim, the unpleasant thoughts of which I spoke were of disgust. The majority of my race are disgusted by me. T’Pring hated that she was connected to me in any way, let alone one so personal. Vulcans may pride themselves on logic and calm, but we do feel. Even those who are not tainted with human blood.” 

Jim was at war with himself and it was painfully obvious. Spock had done all he could. Jim would not listen to logic in this situation, not with their recent change in relationship dynamic. The emotional appeal was the best he could do. 

“I can’t, Spock. I just can’t,” Jim said and walked out of the room. Spock deflated. His captain was abandoning their mission and it was his fault. He immediately began to think of alternatives and pulled out his PADD. It was late, but his counterpart would answer. The man knew that Spock did not enjoy contacting him and only did so when necessary. He was not wrong. Spock felt not quite right when he interacted with someone who was, in fact, his own future. Even though he had already chosen a different path in his romantic relationship with his captain, somehow he still felt that he was looking at an inevitable taunt from the future. 

Spock had to stop Jim Kirk from throwing away his career. 


	17. Chapter 17

Jim smiled weakly as he greeted the doctor and was thankful the man didn’t ask after his wellbeing. They both knew the answer even if they pretended they didn’t. Besides, this was about Joanna and even if Jim didn’t hate talking about his past like a cat hates water, he still would have wanted the focus to stay on the task at hand. 

Georgie’s face filled the screen with Hutch next to her and Jim was struck by just how much older they both looked. Guilt washed through him as he thought about the pair of them running the farm alone. Sure, they’d done it before Jim got there, but they were getting older and they didn’t have any help. At least, he assumed they didn’t. The tours of local school kids helped the day they were there, but that was nowhere near enough to keep the place running. It was just for a moment, but Jim felt a powerful urge to leave the ship and go back. 

“Good to see you, Jim,” Hutch grinned. Jim couldn’t help but grin back. “I hear you’re sending us another pair of hands.” 

“Only if you promise not to work her too hard. She did just lose her mother, you know,” he reminded them. Bones was listening out of sight and he looked like he wanted to say something. 

“I take that to mean she _won’t_ stay up late studying just to rewire the barn? Because you know, Jim, your work’s holding up but the house is starting to get a little patchy.” 

“Well, I’ll see what I can do next time I’m planet-side,” he promised. “Listen, I’ve got my CMO here and I thought maybe you ought to talk before he lets you have his daughter. His name’s Leonard McCoy, but I call him Bones.” 

Jim handed off the PADD and heard Hutch say, “So is it Bones because you’re constantly fixing ‘em?” 

Bones glared sideways at Jim. “It’s Bones because Jim here is a damn fool. You can call me Leonard. He only gets away with it because technically he’s my superior officer. Though in what way, I can’t tell you.” 

Jim smiled at the sound of Hutch’s familiar laugh. “Sounds like our Jim,” Hutch chuckled and Jim’s heart clenched at the casual ownership displayed over him. He missed that. 

“Well, if you ever want to shut him up, just ask him about how he used to get eggs from the chickens,” Georgie cut in and Jim could have screamed. The look of pure joy on Bones’ face as his jaw dropped and he looked at Jim pretty accurately spelled his doom. 

“Oh, I most certainly will have to hear about that,” Bones confirmed. 

“Hey, now, I thought we were here to make arrangements, not swap embarrassing stories about Starfleet’s most distinguished captain,” Jim interrupted. 

“Oh, we can do both,” Bones insisted. “So you’re saying it’s embarrassing?” 

“Bones-“

“Oh, I could even swap you some stories,” Bones informed them and Jim could hear Hutch laughing. 

“Maybe you should talk about Joanna,” Jim reminded him. 

“Kid, you are in too much of a rush. We country folk like to say a proper hello before getting down to business.” 

“My childhood fear of chickens is not a greeting.” Jim wedged his way into the screen. “Georgie, Hutch, I can’t believe you’d betray me like-“

“You’re afraid of chickens?” Bones cut him off. 

“They just… The way their heads move and that vacant stare they have… Bones. This is Georgie and Hutch, the people who are probably going to take care of your only child. Your pride and joy. The person you hold most dear in this universe.” 

“Jim’s right,” Hutch agreed. “We can always swap stories later.” 

Jim backed off a little as Bones told them about his ex-wife and the incident. Joanna had defensive wounds, mostly, thanks to her father’s insistence she learn some fighting skills. Jim had even taught her a little the time he met her. She was feisty, and he was so very glad. He wouldn’t want to see that little girl hurt any more than Bones would- forgetting what losing her would do to his CMO. 

They discussed what Bones was comfortable with allowing Joanna to do in terms of farm work and Jim couldn’t help but smile to see how pleased the man was to “send her to the country for some real life.” Sometimes Jim forgot that Bones had such strong ties to “the country” but it became obvious as the man swapped banter with his guardians. 

“And maybe next time you call, you can get Jim to tell you all about the one that’s finally got him to settle down.” 

“Oh?” 

“Don’t listen to him, Hutch,” Jim said with a glare at Bones. “Bones is just trying to antagonize me.” 

“Don’t listen to _him_ , Hutch,” Bones insisted. “Our Jimbo’s in love.” 

“Do not call me Jimbo,” the captain grimaced. 

“Well, we’ll hear all about it next time, Jimbo,” Hutch teased before Georgie added, “We’re happy to hear it, Jim.” 

They all said good night and Jim was left glaring daggers of betrayal at his best friend. “I cannot believe you did that.” 

“Relax, Jim. We country folk love a good matchup.” 

“Bones, we’ve been… whatever we’ve been for two days.” 

“If you had been forced to watch this thing from the sidelines, Jim, you wouldn’t be so hesitant. You and Spock have been pining after each other since at least the start of this mission.” 

Jim felt his cheeks heat up. “We were not. And I do not pine.” 

“You were pining,” Bones confirmed. “I’m just glad I don’t have to play monkey-in-the-middle anymore.” 

Jim shook his head, deciding not to argue. Normally, he’d continue the banter, but he was tired and not up for it. “Anyway, I don’t know how far this can go, Bones. I’m his commanding officer.” 

“Oh, so now you care about regulations?” 

“I don’t want to fuck this up.” Jim gave Bones a small look that probably reflected how scared he was of this situation. He’d never done anything long term. Hel was the longest relationship he’d had, and it wasn’t something you could call a real relationship. “I have no idea what I’m doing, Bones. This isn’t me.” 

“So what?” Bones asked. “It can be you. You meet new species and visit new worlds all the time. This is just another adventure.” 

“How do you do it, Bones?” 

“Need I remind you how my marriage went, Jim? Let me know if you figure it out.” 

Jim sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just… Jesus, here I am talking about Spock and you just lost your ex-wife.” 

“Lost isn’t the word I’d choose, Jim.” 

“You know what I mean. And you pretend you hate her guts, Bones, but I know you still feel something for her.” 

Bones didn’t reply right away, but for a moment Jim could truly see how much older he was. Bones was only a few years older than Jim, but he was so much older than the numbers indicated. The CMO might not have lived through what Jim had, but he’d been through enough to age him. Somehow, Jim’s own past had had the opposite effect on him. He remained immature and wild, unwilling to settle with one person or in even one place. 

“Yeah, I do, Jim. Life’s not black and white, you know. I can love someone who’s been terrible to me. And I can recognize that some things were my fault, too.” 

“Hindsight is 20/20,” Jim nodded sagely. 

“It’s weird though, Jim. I knew in my heart she was gone for good, and I never wanted to get back together, but… I still miss her. Knowing she’s out of my life and knowing she’s out of this universe is so different.” 

Jim reached out to squeeze Bones’ hand. “What can I do?” 

“Honestly, I just want to keep busy,” Bones said. “Talking helps. It shouldn’t, but it does. You might be surprised.” 

“If that’s supposed to be a hint-“

“Don’t worry, Jim. I’m not asking for anything other than my friend. I don’t suppose you and Spock had a chance to talk?” 

“Not really,” Jim shrugged. For some reason, he didn’t feel compelled to elaborate that they could have and didn’t. What they had done felt too intimate, too private to even joke about. “Anyway, it’s not like I have anything to add to what I told you both earlier. I’m not even sure why I brought him along.” 

“Testing the waters,” Bones decided. 

“What?” 

“Jim, in spite of what you want people to believe, you are the most private person I know. Maybe I’m wrong, but I think you’re afraid to let anyone know you. You’ve lost so many people, Jim. You can’t risk scaring any more off. You know we aren’t going anywhere, but there’s still that little _what if_ in the back of your head. Like a little devil on your shoulder.” 

“You and metaphors,” Jim said in a weak voice. “Anyway, that’s enough psychoanalysis for one day. You know I’m just a simple starship captain.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Bones said and he looked sad. Well, Jim couldn’t help that. Bones could make him a project all he wanted, but Jim wasn’t about to have some emotional breakthrough- especially when there were other problems the man had to worry about. 

“See you at the briefing tomorrow,” Jim nodded and Bones returned the gesture. With his trademark grin, Jim whisked out of medical and back toward his own quarters. He was shocked and pleased to see Spock was still there. It warmed him a lot, even to see him working. It felt almost domestic and Jim discovered the surprising fact that he wouldn’t mind getting used to this. 

The fact that Spock had expected to return made him happy as well and Jim reached out his two fingers to the Vulcan and was pleasantly surprised when Spock met his lips. Jim smiled as he thought about how easily they both gave to each other and was suddenly thinking that the only thing better than making himself smile was making himself smile while they kissed. No, wait. Spock was thinking that. Jim grinned a little more. “You like making me smile, huh?” 

Jim’s mind went blank as Spock uttered that horrifying word, completely losing everything else he’d said up to it. Suddenly he felt an invisible weight in his arms and his heart knew it was a dying Spock instead of Ty and that was so far beyond manageable that he could barely form the words to tell Spock how much he was hurting. Jim grasped for anything that could bring him back above water, that could let him breathe. 

Anger was easiest. Spock knew, he knew and he kept pushing this at him. Was he trying to hurt Jim? He couldn’t possibly mean that much to the Vulcan if he kept ignoring Jim’s limits. 

Except Spock was apologizing, practically falling over himself to make it right. Jim kept him at a distance and took a few breaths. It wasn’t fair to be angry at Spock. Like he said, he didn’t know. Not really. Jim had been upset by what he’d told his friends about Asshole and reliving it had put him in a bad place where everything rubbed him the wrong way, and it was worse than usual. 

He apologized and hated himself when Spock seemed afraid to come near him. Desperate to repair the situation, Jim moved to him and buried his face in the Vulcan’s neck. Immediately, relief washed through him as Spock embraced him and they stayed that way until Spock moved them toward the bed. Jim smirked and teased him about how eager he was to cuddle and everything was okay until the rug was ripped out from under him. 

Madness and death. 

No way in hell was Jim going to let that happen. It couldn’t happen. This was why he hadn’t wanted Spock to use that word. He wasn’t about to lose another person he loved to that word. 

Jim’s spine was stiff and straight as a board as he marched to the bridge- too quickly. “Ensign Erikson,” Jim said and he heard someone announce the captain on the bridge. “Change our course to New Vulcan. Warp factor four.” 

“Yes, captain.” 

This was what Jim loved about the night crew. They didn’t argue with him like alpha shift. He could practically hear Chekov in the back of his head saying, _But, keptin,_ as Jim was forced to cut him off and explain himself. “How long, Ensign?” 

“It will take us approximately nine days and twenty-one hours, sir.” 

“Thank you, Ensign. I’ll have a word with Mister Scott in the morning about decreasing that time.” 

“Sir, may I ask-?”

Jim took back all the nice things he’d just thought about gamma shift. “I’ll explain the change in course later. For now, just keep us in the right direction.” 

“Aye, sir.” 

Jim left the bridge and contemplated waking Bones up to yell at him for not telling him immediately what Spock was risking. Bones knew Jim wouldn’t let Spock just… 

Jim spent the rest of the night in a holodeck battling Klingons and ignoring the pain in his groin. 

It was a mistake and he knew it even before he got back to his predictably empty quarters with just enough time to shower and dress before the morning briefing. He had no idea what he was going to tell them, but he knew he had to talk to Spock first. As frustrated as he was that his first officer had kept something like this from him, he wasn’t about to tell the rest of the crew about the Vulcan’s personal life. Spock was a very private person and Jim had a feeling something like this would be embarrassing for him. Even without revealing his recent bouts of emotionalism, Spock was not someone who needed help- at least this was the image he seemed to want to project. 

Jim showered off the night and tried to convince himself that he’d slept at all. He glanced at the time as he got out of the shower and exactly five minutes later, he heard his door buzz. Jim knew before he opened it that it would be Spock. 

Jim waited an extraordinarily long moment for the Vulcan to say something when he opened the door. “Spock? What is it?” 

Jim’s face flushed when Spock hurriedly met his eyes and the captain realized he was shirtless and Spock had been _checking him out_. 

He liked it. 

The Vulcan cleared his throat. “I wished to speak to you regarding our new course.” 

Jim shook his head and walked back into his room to get his undershirt on and comb his hair. “It’s not up for debate, Spock. You need to see the healers. I’ll make it an order if I-“

“I intend to go to New Vulcan,” Spock agreed. “I simply wished to offer an alternative which does not take the ship so far off course.” 

Jim pulled his shirt on and ignored the comb in favor of giving Spock his full attention. “What kind of alternative?” 

“My counterpart has a ship capable of meeting us less than halfway. He has agreed, pending your approval, to deliver me to New Vulcan himself.” 

Jim’s lips parted in shock. He hadn’t even thought of having someone meet them. Jim had just assumed they’d stop off and wait. That was stupid, of course it was, but he hated the thought of being parted from his first officer- especially when they had just started something wonderful and new together. “Will that be awkward?” 

“Yes.” 

Jim had to stifle a laugh at the frankness. “You don’t think-“

“Jim, this is the most efficient way. The _Enterprise_ has a mission, and one officer’s health cannot stand in the way.” 

Jim lowered his gaze. He hated this. “One condition,” he agreed. 

“I do not think the good of the ship should be subject to conditions.” 

“Relax, Spock. It’s an easy condition. Will you stay with me until you have to go?” 

Spock softened a little and he nodded. “Yes, Jim. I would very much like that.” 

Jim relaxed at that and closed the distance between them so he could press a kiss to Spock’s lips. “Now, what are we going to tell the crew?” 

“Tell them I am urgently needed on New Vulcan,” Spock shrugged. “They do not need details. This should only delay the ship by four days.” 

Jim nodded and reached for Spock’s hand, sliding down it until he had hooked their fingers together in some strange cross between the Vulcan kiss and a handhold. He could literally feel Spock’s pleasure at the new gesture and Jim gave him a smile. “So, shall we go to this briefing?” 

“I do believe you have forgotten something, Jim,” Spock replied while combing his fingers through the still-damp hair on Jim’s head. The captain blushed a little but didn’t pull away. Spock didn’t stop either and Jim realized they were still connected at the fingers, so Spock knew exactly how much Jim was enjoying the light touch. “But I do not believe I am creating a style that will be to your liking.” 

Jim laughed quietly. “No, probably not.” Reluctantly, he pulled away to put a comb through the mess on top of his head until it looked presentable. “Now?” 

Spock nodded and they headed to the turbolift together, hooking their fingers together while the doors were shut. Such a simple, chaste touch shouldn’t feel as good as it did. It was amazing being joined with another presence in that way, and even the touch itself felt different, almost electric. Jim hadn’t read much about telepathy, but it was related to thoughts which were really just electric impulses in the brain, so he wouldn’t be surprised if the actual mechanism for reading thoughts was electrical in nature. 

“Do you always think this way?” Spock interrupted. 

“Yes,” Jim confirmed. “Vulcans do not have a monopoly on braininess.” 

Spock’s mouth turned up slightly at the corners and Jim knew the Vulcan was pleased with him. The turbolift came to a halt and they released their physical link, losing the emotional one as well. Jim missed it already. 

There was no time to dwell as they entered the conference room to a very put-out command team. “Yes, our course has been altered, and no, it isn’t a mistake,” Jim stated before anyone could beat him to it. “Spock is needed urgently on New Vulcan, so we are meeting Ambassador Selek partway. In the meantime, let’s hear about our primary mission and continue to utilize Commander Spock’s insight before we have to give him up. Mr. Chekov, what do you have?” 

“Aye, keptin. I have seweral anomalies that I cannot explain. There is interference of unknown origin on Elnath I, prewenting any remote survey of the planet. It is difficult to say if it is natural interference or constructed. Elnath II is a Class M planet with absolutely no life forms at all.” 

“What do you mean no life forms?” Jim asked. 

“There is no plant life, no animal. It is as if the entire planet is dead. The atmosphere is likely safe to breathe and the climate agreeable, but there is nothing there.” 

That piqued Jim’s interest. Had there ever been life there? Had something wiped it out? “Okay, what about III and IV?” 

“We will be unable to explore them without suits and oxygen, but they both show useful materials. Elnath IV appears to be wery rich in dilithium.” 

“Noted,” Jim said. “We’ll send a couple science teams to get closer surveys of III and IV, and then see if we can figure out the source of that interference on I.” 

“Captain, if I may,” Spock interrupted. 

“You will if I like it or not, so go ahead,” Jim replied and he saw Sulu suppress a grin. 

Spock blinked in response to the jibe before going on. “If the interference is manufactured, it will be created by technologically capable life forms who may be hostile. They do not want us to know what is on their planet, which may be a sign of fear, but it may also be a sign of xenophobia.” 

“Well, we weren’t exactly going to beam down blindfolded and with our hands tied, Spock.” 

Spock blinked again and Jim wondered if he was going too hard on him. “I am merely advising caution as you frequently seem to take none.” 

Sulu did not manage to suppress the smile this time and Jim’s eyebrows rose. “Alright, well your advice is noted, Commander.” 

“You did say you wished to take advantage of it before I leave.” 

“I did, didn’t I?” Jim nodded. “Remind me to stop doing such stupid stuff.” 

“I could try, Captain, but as with most similar requests, I am certain you will only ignore it.” 

Sulu actually let out a chuckle before holding up a hand and trying to appear serious. “Sorry-!”

Jim shook his head, trying not to show his own amusement. “Spock, I’ll have you assemble the science teams and Sulu, we’ll put together a team for Elnath I. Depending on what kind of readings we get, we might skip it and go to II.” 

“It is possible that our sensors have malfunctioned,” Spock suggested. “To find absolutely zero life signs on a Class M planet is unheard of.” 

“Which is _fascinating_ , isn’t it Spock? You’re just jealous you won’t be able to go see it yourself.” 

“Vulcans do not experience jealousy.” 

Jim couldn’t help but notice that Spock had said Vulcans without singling himself out in particular, but he decided not to point that out. “Then you won’t be jealous of Mister Sulu who will be covering your first officer position until you get back,” Jim stated, hoping his split second decision was the right one. Ship politics were complicated and deserved a lot more thought than Jim had put into it. Sulu was someone Jim trusted, though. Ever since that first mission to disable the drill on Vulcan-that-was, Jim knew Sulu could handle himself. His first needed to have those instincts to accompany him on away missions- against regulation, as Spock liked to pointed out. Jim couldn’t help it. He liked the command team to lead on and off the ship. “If he’s willing, of course.” 

All eyes fell on Sulu who gave them all wide, surprised eyes before swallowing and giving a nod. Jim beamed. “Then I think we’re all set! Gamma shift’s just about over, so I think we ought to go relieve them- if no one has anything else.” 

“I do, sir,” Uhura stated and Jim turned to her. “It’s probably nothing, but I’ve been listening to that interference and it tends to change pitch and almost has a rhythm. It’s almost like a communication, but it might be random.” 

Jim frowned a bit. The chances of it being natural had just gone way down in his mind. “Keep an ear on that, Lieutenant. Take anyone you need. If there’s a pattern, find it.” 

“Thanks.” 

The rest of the shift dragged on endlessly. No one seemed to have anything to talk about and besides, Jim really wanted to be alone with Spock. Sure, they weren’t going to do anything explicit, but he was looking forward to it nonetheless. With Spock, Jim was starting to realize there were things that could feel even better than sex and hell if that wasn’t mind blowing. Of course, he’d still really like to have sex with Spock. He really, _really_ wanted to. 

Until he started to think about it and hunched forward in pain as blood rushed south to his injured area. So no thinking about that, then. Predictably, Spock was looking at him with concern and Jim just shook his head to indicate he was fine. 

Spock apparently did not take his word and was immediately in his quarters through the shared bathroom. They had silently agreed to continue to keep up the appearance that they weren’t together, but Jim had not agreed to the determined hunt the Vulcan seemed to be on. “Spock, I’m fine.” 

“You were in distress.” 

“Past tense,” Jim confirmed. “Although if you keep staring at me like you’re gonna dissect me, I might change my mind about that.” 

Spock looked undeterred. “If you are experiencing pains, Doctor McCoy should-“

“Spock, please don’t make me explain. We’re both going to be embarrassed if I do.” 

Spock paused as Jim’s words permeated his brain and then it appeared to click. “Oh.” 

Jim felt his cheeks flush and he cleared his throat. “So now that we’re past that…”

Once again, Spock threw him for a loop by leaning forward and placing a kiss on his lips so quickly that Jim almost missed it. He grinned and laughed a little. “Yeah, that’s one way to get past something. Want to play chess?” 

“Chess?” 

“Yes, Spock. I was thinking we could both play from my side of the board.” 

“Your side of the board?” 

“Yes, Echo. Chess and cuddling. This should appeal to literally every aspect of your being.” 

Spock opened and closed his mouth and Jim chuckled. “If you are going to make fun of me-“

Jim grabbed Spock’s hands to cut him off. “Relax, Spock. I love that you like cuddling. I don’t think this would work if you didn’t.” 

“Why not?” 

Jim snorted in amusement and pressed close to his Vulcan to press a much longer kiss to his lips. “Because I am a very tactile human.” 

Spock smiled. “Then let us play chess.” 

Jim returned the expression and pulled the coffee table up to the sofa as Spock set up the board. They settled in and went through a momentary awkwardness where they couldn’t seem to decide how to sit or who was holding whom, but eventually Jim ended up with his arm around Spock’s shoulder like they were teenagers watching a movie and trying not to get caught being romantic. 

Spock refused to play from Jim’s side and insisted they turn the board sideways. Jim objected, saying that playing from the left or right still might give someone an advantage, but he lost that particular battle. They didn’t play too seriously, anyway. At some point, Jim purposely moved his king into check and then mate because he was tired of thinking and just wanted to be with the Vulcan. 

He turned and laid back, pleased when Spock followed suit. The Vulcan curled against him and Jim sought out his hand to hook their fingers as the science officer kissed him. Smiling into the kiss, Jim felt Spock’s delight as if it was his own. Now that he knew how much Spock liked making him smile, Jim intended to do as much of it as possible. 

“Good,” Spock said in a voice that went straight down to the worst possible place. 

Spock immediately backed off and Jim wondered if he could feel the pain too. “You are way too sexy for my own good,” Jim groaned. “I’ve never been this sexually frustrated in my life, fucking- fuck!” 

Jim shut his eyes and breathed through the pain. Spock let him and when Jim finally opened his eyes, his science officer looked obviously stricken. Even a stranger would be able to read the emotions on his face. “It’s a good thing,” Jim assured him. “Besides, it’s my fault for having sex with that alien.” 

Spock was kneeling on the floor beside the couch and Jim wasn’t happy with that situation at all. He reached to tug Spock back up to him, but the Vulcan had other ideas. “Perhaps we should not engage in such activities until you are well.” 

“Spock, if you had any idea how long that might be… I’d show you just how bad it is, but I think we’re taking this slow so I shouldn’t lose my pants just yet.” Spock actually seemed curious and Jim seriously thought about it for a moment before deciding not to. “Anyway, I only have you for a little while longer. I’m willing to risk it.” 

Spock nodded and curled his fingers around Jim’s. It was overwhelming to feel that amount of concern directed at his own person. No one had ever cared for Jim that much, as far as he knew. As if sensing the barest hint of potential distress, Spock silenced Jim’s brain by kissing him and then leading him to the proper bed. Jim was limping and Spock graciously did not point it out. 

They curled up together and continued toward sleep with their fingers connected in a Vulcan kiss. 


	18. Chapter 18

Spock’s time with Jim was too short. Logically, he knew they had spent every moment of time together possible, from their shifts on the bridge to meals with their command team to sharing Jim’s bed at night. Strangely, it did not feel like such an amount of time had passed. Spock had always assumed humans spoke in metaphor when they said the time passed too quickly. Time was a constant, after all. Units of measurements were always the same, otherwise they would be useless. 

Jim beamed to the rendez-vous with Spock and their fingers connected instinctively once the crew was out of sight. Spock’s counterpart seemed unruffled by the action, though Spock was sure he and his own Jim did not have such a relationship. Selek politely excused himself to check on something they all knew was perfectly functional and Jim turned to Spock with unusually shiny eyes. “I’m going to miss you,” he whispered. 

“And I you, ashayam.” 

Jim cupped Spock’s cheek and the Vulcan leaned into the touch. “Promise me you’ll do everything you can to come back to me well.” 

“There is nothing I desire more in this life,” Spock assured him and it was strangely true. Spock should want knowledge and prosperity, but his desire for a life with Jim- any kind- was stronger. Even knowing how much it would hurt to lose his t’hy’la, Spock wanted him. Even the heartbreak would be a gift. 

Jim’s gaze faltered and Spock knew it was the intensity of the feelings the human was experiencing through their kiss. It had become painfully clear to the Vulcan over the past few days just how broken his Jim Kirk was. Spock leaned forward to kiss him gently. “You are fascinating and beautiful, Jim. Please do not allow our distance to permit you to forget how much I crave your presence.” 

Jim nodded and closed the distance between their lips again, kissing Spock hard and pressing into him. Spock worried that Jim would have a repeat of their chess game and he was ready to catch the man should he be overwhelmed by pain, but Jim only clutched him harder until Spock’s fear faded and he was able to return the kiss. 

Unable to let go just yet, Jim started to break their kiss only to punctuate it with several smaller kisses. Spock granted him a small but genuine smile. _I will not forget that you crave my presence as well,_ he thought and knew Jim would understand that he had received the message loud and clear. 

Reality came crashing back (and the fact that Spock had forgotten it at all spoke volumes on his state of mind) as Selek returned. Jim pulled away and Spock grieved the loss of contact between their minds. He would never feel as right as he did joined mentally with his t’hy’la. 

He did his best to keep his expression blank as Jim dematerialized and left Spock alone with his counterpart. He did not know what type of discussion would ensue (and there certainly would be some), but he was not looking forward to it. 

“Mr. Spock,” his counterpart nodded and offered him a badge that would allow the ambassador’s ship to beam him aboard. Spock affixed it to his belt, not wanting to obscure his Starfleet badge. It was illogical and sentimental, but Spock’s primary loyalty was to Starfleet (or, rather, Captain Kirk and the Enterprise) and he did not want it to share the spotlight with what was keeping him from his duty. 

It was clear the gesture did not go unnoticed. “I am gratified to see you and your captain getting along so well,” his counterpart informed him. Spock felt the familiar pull at his molecules as they were beamed aboard the ambassador’s craft. “I feel it necessary to establish that, though you are aware of my true identity, it will be easiest to refer to me as Selek. I have grown accustomed to the name and even Vulcans such as ourselves are not immune to the ludicrous back and forth of ‘Mr. Spock,’ and ‘Mr. Spock.’” 

“You are Ambassador Spock,” Spock pointed out. 

His counterpart gave him a small smile that seemed almost fond and it made Spock uncomfortable. This man knew him too well and to see him smile fondly on him the way he would an old photograph gave Spock a sensation that humans might describe as someone _walking over his grave._ “Selek will be fine, Spock. It aids me as well, in remembering that this is not my universe and that I should not attempt to take your place or shape your reality in any way.” 

“As you request,” Spock agreed. 

The craft had been altered since Spock had last been aboard. Where before there was only one place for a pilot to sit, there were now a few benches leading up to the helm. Spock took the one nearest the captain’s right, unable to break old habits. This clearly was not lost on the ambassador either. 

“You are having trouble meditating,” Selek stated and Spock knew they were about to discuss the reason for this journey. “It was much the same for me when my bond to T’Pring was lost, though it was through a Challenge. I believe the more sudden and devastating severance for you will cause more difficulty in overcoming this obstacle.” 

Spock inclined his head before remembering that Selek was now seated facing away from him. “It should not be so great a loss. If the T’Pring of your universe was much like mine-“

“She did not agree with being bound to an abomination,” Selek agreed sadly. “Still, the bond was deeply rooted in your psyche. Even a negative influence will hurt when torn.” 

“I am gratified to share this understanding,” Spock replied. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“I did not-“

“Thanks are not as illogical as you may believe,” Selek informed him. “You will come to see, especially when interacting with humans and other emotional species, that they serve an important purpose. Where for Vulcans an act is done because it is logical and not for sentiment, humans perform acts to please others. Allowing humans, Jim for example, to know that you appreciate their efforts allows them to feel acknowledged and worthy.” 

“Is it not logical to assume I appreciate their efforts?” 

“You have much to learn about emotion, Spock.” 

“I am not certain I wish to.” 

Selek sighed, keyed a few things in to his console and turned to face him. “Spock, you are half-human. Your difficulties arise from insisting on behaving as though you are a full-blooded Vulcan. While you are capable of the violence of a pre-Reformation Vulcan, your human emotions will prove invaluable in preventing this. Emotions such as gratitude, appreciation, love… these will keep you centered in ways that meditation cannot.” 

“But meditation-“

“Is also a vital component. As the only other half-human, half-Vulcan hybrid in this universe… Spock, you must embrace both halves of your heritage. Fighting a war within yourself leaves you vulnerable to wars without.” 

Spock nodded. That eerie feeling was traveling through him again as his counterpart spoke truths that Spock thought he should be discovering on his own. “Did you not say you wished to refrain from altering the events in this timeline? Is providing me this knowledge not an alteration?” 

“Yes,” Selek agreed. “So was Nero’s arrival. I have debated since the event how much to tell you about his involvement here, but recent revelations have spurred me to inform you of the full story.” 

“In trying to save lives, you inadvertently destroyed his planet, so he destroyed ours. What could be left to tell?” 

“Many things, Spock. But first, we have a long journey ahead of us and I should like to show you the parts of the ship you’ll be staying in. I do not know how deeply you will be affected by what I have to impart, and so I wish to be rid of formalities first.” 

Spock only frowned and followed as Selek showed him his quarters, how to use the futuristic replicator to produce his favorite dishes (Spock tried not to think about his counterpart knowing what he typically ate), and the rest of the facilities. Spock took the opportunity to leave his duffle bag on his bunk as they headed back to the bridge. 

“Your ship flies unattended,” Spock observed. 

“Its autopilot functions are such that I am free to check on experiments at my leisure. Sometimes I read. The computer will inform me if there is a problem wherever I am on the ship. Come.” 

The ambassador led him into what could only be described as a small library. There were two plush chairs on either side of the corner with a small table between them. 

Spock barely contained his annoyance as he sat and the ambassador proceeded to the replicator to replicate not just two tea cups, but a full teapot, which he then proceeded to pour for both of them as if they were engaging socially and he hadn’t just promised the younger Vulcan potentially life changing information. Even worse- he sat back and began to sip just as leisurely, enjoying the tea and waiting for Spock to do the same. 

Determined not to play this game, Spock resoundedly ignored the tea. “I believe there was something you wished to tell me, Ambassador.” 

“Have some tea, Spock. We have plenty of time.” 

Spock did release his frustration this time, in the form of a raspy sigh. Selek merely raised an eyebrow as if to say Emotion, Spock? 

Spock drank the tea and allowed the taste to wash over his tongue and warm the roof of his mouth. Perhaps this was a lesson in patience, and there was no information at all. Regardless, his counterpart was correct. They had plenty of time. 

“Now,” began Selek, holding his tea in his lap. “I have spent much time deliberating on how much to tell you, and what could possibly alter your own path. The truth is that I do not know. I do not know what will happen here, next. I know what happened in my own universe, but yours is a mystery. You are aware that my Jim Kirk grew up with his father. There was no _Kelvin_ incident, and in fact he was even born two months later than your captain was. I suspect that the stress of the situation forced an early labor for his mother.” 

“Fascinating,” Spock could not help but utter. It had not occurred to him that something so fundamental as his captain’s birth date might have changed between realities. 

“This is not the revelation which troubled me,” Selek continued. “It was when I learned that the events of Tarsus IV had been classified. Both of our captains were present on Tarsus IV and I have been looking into the events as they occurred here. There is very little known. In fact, on the surface it looks exactly like my own Jim’s experience.” 

“Could your captain have concealed the truth from you? Perhaps the events do not truly differ.” 

“No,” Selek said with confidence. “My Jim, while horrified by the events, could speak of them. Your Jim Kirk…” 

Spock waited for the rest of the thought, but it seemed that Selek was unable to articulate it. “He does not speak of it,” Spock supplied in an attempt at helpfulness. 

“More than that. He seems… haunted. Traumatized. The deaths on Tarsus IV, if your reports are to be believed were painless and quick. What haunts him seems heavier than survivor’s guilt, and I can only conclude that something did happen there, something so terrible that it had to be classified because the public’s reaction would be too severe.” 

Spock nodded. “He has previously mentioned that there is more, but he seems unwilling to reveal the classified information.” 

“Even to you?” 

“Ambassador, even Doctor McCoy does not know what happened to him on Tarsus IV. Once, while intoxicated, he revealed that an entire year of Jim’s medical file is above his clearance level.” 

“As Jim’s chief medical officer and his doctor, nothing should be above-“

“Precisely,” Spock agreed. “Your conclusion that the official documents on Tarsus IV are lacking is undoubtedly correct.” 

Selek seemed to be even more deeply troubled. “Spock, I feel it is my duty to inform you that I bear a large portion of responsibility for whatever has befallen your captain.” 

“You are not responsible for the actions of Nero, and certainly not those of Governor Kodos.” 

“I am responsible for allowing him to reach your reality, Spock. You see, your Vulcan-that-Was is not the first Vulcan he has destroyed. I have twice followed him through that wormhole back in time, and I fear he has done something to affect the events on Tarsus IV. It was proven to him that not only is Jim Kirk capable of defeating him… but that he is capable of destroying me. Destroying our planet did not yet destroy me, so he has chosen something else to destroy: Jim Kirk.” 

Spock’s grip was tight on his tea cup, so tight that it had begun to bend. He set it down and clasped his hands to hide their shaking. “How could he have done this?” he asked, his voice thankfully steady. 

“I do not know. Once again, I arrived much later than he did. There are years I cannot account for him, but I do not believe his ship could have been capable of reaching the Tarsus system. It was beyond crippled when another Captain Kirk sent it into a sun. It should have been destroyed. It was only later, when I was analyzing the data, that I realized the singularity had formed another path into the past. I had the Vulcan High Council publicize my death and immediately set out to make sure he was stopped, this time for good.” 

“It is still illogical to assume responsibility,” Spock stated. He could not quite face the rest of the story yet. If Nero had wanted to _destroy_ Jim, Spock did not want to even attempt to theorize what could have happened on Tarsus IV. 


	19. Chapter 19

Jim stood on the transporter pad and gave Sulu a weak smile. It felt wrong not having a certain other dark-haired officer beaming down to the planet with him. Not that he could see much of Sulu’s hair in the bulky helmets. The interference prevented their scanners from getting the most basic of readings- including the atmospheric composition. They had no idea if they’d be able to breathe or what down there. Spock had already calculated increased gravity, warning Jim that it would be difficult and likely exhausting to walk normally. Jim had only curled closer (Spock hadn’t stopped him from cuddling up while they both worked that evening) and told him he could think of several other exhausting things they could do. The joke had backfired. Instead of making Spock adorably uncomfortable, he’d only reminded Jim about his unfortunate downstairs situation. 

It wasn’t until hours later that Jim realized he should have made a joke about how he didn’t need that to wear Spock out. 

A twinge of pain reminded him to stop thinking about what Spock would look like turned on. Especially on the way down to an unknown, mostly unscannable planet. He kept his eyes open as they dematerialized, tense and ready for a fight. 

There was no need. The planet was desolate. There were no plants, no life signs, nothing. Barren rock extended as far as the mechanically enhanced eye of his suit could see. Sulu signaled wordlessly for Jim and the rest of the team to follow. His acting first officer was hunched so close to the tricorder that it was practically bumping into the window of his helmet. 

They walked several miles over the geologically uninteresting (deathly boring) terrain before finally finding a recess with a piece of tech that couldn’t weigh more than twenty kilograms. “This is it,” Sulu said. “This is what’s causing every bit of interference on the planet.” 

Ensign Andrews was the one who spoke all of their thoughts aloud: “Why?” 

Sulu knelt down to look at it along with the two science officers. Jim wanted to look for himself, but it was a little crowded with the three of them and he knew his people were perfectly capable. Jim might be able to rewire an antique barn, but he was neither an engineer nor a scientist. 

“It appears to be some kind of… Honestly, captain, I’m not sure,” Sulu admitted. 

Ensign Calarita reached forward. “There’s something here,” he said. 

“Careful, we don’t kn-“

Sulu’s warning was lost as the young ensign set off some kind of defense program that blasted him back. Immediately Jim rushed to him in spite of the fact that they had a medic. “His suit’s been ruptured!” Jim yelled, hitting his comm badge simultaneously. “Scotty, beam Ensign Calarita up now! Now, dammit!” 

The ensign was pale and nearly blue by the time he dematerialized. Jim was left on his knees, staring at the impact he’d left in the dirt before his brain switched back on. “Scotty?” 

There wasn’t an immediate response. “Scotty, is our boy alive?” 

Jim didn’t need to hear the words his chief engineer said. He could hear the death in his tone. Jim kept his back to the team. He was pretty sure Calarita and Andrews were together. He was afraid to look at her. Jim steeled himself. No one else was going to get hurt today. 

“No one else touches that thing until we know more,” Jim ordered, and there was only a slight waver to his voice. “Scans only. Do not poke it or prod it, physically or otherwise.” 

“Aye, captain.” 

Andrews was silent, but she continued to examine the alien tech. Her hands were shaking slightly and Jim crouched down just enough to tug her away. “A word, ensign.” 

He switched them to a sub-channel so they could talk privately. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m okay to work,” she replied and Jim believed her. 

“That wasn’t what I asked.” 

She sucked in a small pocket of air that was almost a sob. “Sir, I’m one of the best people Starfleet has for alien jamming technology. It’s my specialty. No one on board is more qualified than me to pick that thing apart, and I really want to work right now.” 

“Okay,” Jim agreed. “But if you get reckless-“

“This thing just killed my fiancé,” she bit out. “I’m going to kick its ass. Sir.” 

Jim nodded without another word and switched back to public comms. The ensign returned to the tech and began scanning. Jim turned to his security officer who looked unsteady. “You okay lieutenant?” he asked. The lieutenant nodded, and Jim didn’t believe it this time. Luckily, their medic took over and Jim was free to join the scientists. He was careful not to take the spot Calarita had occupied. 

“Aside from the interference, I can’t detect any kind of function from this thing, captain,” Sulu informed him. 

“Andrews?” Jim asked, turning to see if she’d gotten anything. 

She shook her head. “All I can tell you is the interference is huge. It ranges way past the atmosphere, like it’s aimed at ships and not the planet at all.” 

Jim stared harder at it as if it would make any difference. “So it’s definitely hiding something,” he mused. “I’d bet my pips there are life signs on II. There’s definitely nothing here worth hiding.” 

“Captain, I wouldn’t write off this planet just yet,” Andrews said. “The interference is one thing we’re getting, but for all we know this thing could be screwing with more than our scanners. If we could properly scan the whole planet, we might find something.” 

“Well, I’m not entirely comfortable with attempting to disable it at this point. Is there anyone else we can get on this? Andrews, this is your area. Who can we get to help analyze this?” 

If Sulu was bothered by the way Jim was sidelining him, he didn’t show it. They both knew his expertise was in flying, not engineering. That why his shirt was yellow and not red. He was here because Jim insisted on his first always being with him. 

“Gordon Firenze has a specialty in cloaking tech and I wouldn’t put it past this mystery to be some kind of shielding tech. Siel S’teng would be handy as well. Siel’s focus was in bomb disposal.” 

“You think this could be a bomb?” 

“I think it has some defenses that have already proven lethal, so I’d feel better with someone experienced in that area.” 

Jim held up his hands. “Deal. And where was S’teng when we had our CMO trying to disarm that torpedo?” 

Andrews actually looked away and Jim was suddenly afraid of the answer. “In the Academy still?” 

Jim’s mouth dropped open slightly but he wasn’t about to argue about age or experience. At least this bomb expert wasn’t in prison or recovering from… shaky hands… or something. “Okay,” he agreed. “We’ll have them both sent down here. If you can think of anyone else, we’ll get them too. Ensign, this thing just became your project. You’re our expert and you’ll get all the help you need.” 

No sooner was Jim back on his ship than Bones was down his throat about putting an Ensign in charge of the situation. “And not just an ensign,” Bones ranted under his breath, “but one who just watched the man she loves die right in front of her! Jim, are you out of your damn mind?!” 

“Not yet, Bones,” he assured the doctor. “I talked to her, okay? I know I’m not a doctor, but I know the look she’s got. She wants to keep busy and I know you can relate to that. Besides, I think she’s got a vendetta against this thing now. Conquering this thing… I can’t explain it, Bones, but I think she’s going to get some sense of justice from it.” 

“It won’t bring back the dead, Jim.” 

“No, but it might bring her a little satisfaction in the middle of a shitty situation,” he snapped. 

Bones actually looked taken aback by Jim’s anger. “Fine, but as CMO-“

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll get your tests, you’ll take her off duty at the first sign she’s unfit. Bones, I’m telling you. I can read people pretty well. I have total confidence in her. And if her rank’s really that big a problem, she’ll be a lieutenant within the hour.” 

“Now that’s not-“

“Too late, mind made up,” Jim shrugged as he ducked Bones’ grabbing hand and rushed down the hall. All the kneeling and crouching and walking had put him in a bit of pain, so it was time for some awkward alone time, applying cream to his junk in the least sexy way possible. 

After, he faced his screen uncertainly. He had to tell Calarita’s family what had happened. Jim had lost people before, but never just one and never in a situation like this. When their ship had been through disasters before, the ship had been damaged in a fight. There had been multiple casualties and Starfleet had people who sent those condolences. 

Jim was going to deliver these ones. He owed Calarita’s family that. 

Part of him hoped that no one would pick up, but an older woman’s face appeared on the screen. “Hello?” she said, squinting at the controls. 

“It’s on, you answered it, honestly Fay,” said a voice from off-screen. Another woman pushed her way into the frame, rolling her eyes. “You forgot to turn the screen on. It’s the green square one. You’ll have to forgive my sister, she’s not exactly… You’re Starfleet.” 

Jim wasn’t smiling and he didn’t know if they recognized him, but they knew exactly what it meant when someone from Starfleet contacted you without a smile. Fay immediately burst into tears and was enveloped in a hug by her sister. “What happened?” the sister asked. 

“An accident involving a piece of alien technology,” Jim replied quietly. 

“Is he alive?” the sister asked. 

Jim felt his heart sink. “Some kind of defensive mechanism was triggered and he was thrown back. There was no atmosphere on the planet. We beamed him out as fast as we could, but the rupture in his suit was too severe. It was quick and he didn’t suffer.” He hoped that was comforting, but he couldn’t imagine anything being comforting in this kind of situation. 

“My nephew was engaged,” she said with only a slight waver in her voice. “Does Maria know?” 

“She was there,” Jim replied, trying not to let on how tight his throat was. 

“Oh, god,” the aunt breathed. “Is she okay?” 

Jim sighed. “Physically, she’s just fine. She’s keeping busy.” He filled them in as quickly as he could and promised to have her call them. Fay and Tina (he finally learned her name) loved Andrews like she was already family. Hopefully that would be some comfort for the three of them. 

When he signed off, Jim didn’t feel good but he felt like some kind of weight had been lifted. The truth was that he always managed to blame himself for a crew member’s death even if he was nowhere near the situation. To hear these two women talk about their son and nephew without a single hint of blame for his death absolved him at least a little. The guilt would return later, but for now he felt ready to eat something and fill out the paperwork on Lieutenant Andrews’ promotion. 


	20. Chapter 20

Relations between Spock and his counterpart grew easier as the journey continued. They spoke mostly about the progress being made on New Vulcan, the differences in plant life and soil. New Vulcan averaged approximately one degree colder than Vulcan-that-was, which was one degree too much for a few of their more fragile plants. Very little had been saved from Vulcan-that-was, but that which had been was precious and every effort was made to conserve them. Greenhouses had been constructed to propagate their plants. 

The prize plant was an old flower, safe only because a single specimen had been taken on board a Federation science vessel by a human officer who had visited their gardens once. It was immediately removed from its clay pot and given to the care of Vulcan botanists. No one mentioned that it had been taken without permission. They were too focused on ensuring that it was no longer one of a kind. 

It was the first thing he wanted to see when he arrived on New Vulcan, but unfortunately a Healer was waiting for him when they disembarked and led him straight to a meditation room. 

Immediately, the Healer sat and Spock followed suit. “I am Healer T’Gron,” she told him matter-of-factly. “I am here to assess the urgency of your condition.” 

Spock nodded. His urge was to agree, but his agreement was logical and would not need to be stated. His time working with Starfleet had made him prone to assurances. He’d have to drop that here. He did not flinch when she reached for his psi-points and instead relaxed his mental defenses, what was left of them anyway, and allowed her into his mind. 

Her mental touch was cool and calm. Spock missed that kind of stability as much as he missed Jim. Both of them flinched at the intensity with which Spock chided himself for thinking of his captain. Because apparently all of his strongest emotions were linked under the category of “things he never wanted to think about when another Vulcan could be aware of it,” his mother flashed into his awareness and again they both flinched- this time at the intensity of his pain. 

Gently, T’Gron withdrew. Her expression was professionally blank. At least she wasn’t deriding him for his feelings as the Vulcans in his youth did. Spock forced himself to keep his own expression blank, and to overcome his powerful desire to avoid eye contact. 

“Your emotions are very strong,” she stated. “Has meditation not proven effective?” 

Spock shook his head, feeling (and he grimaced internally at the thought) self-conscious about even the small but unnecessary head movement. “I have been unable to meditate at all.” 

She blinked, taking in the information without acknowledgment. “Please elaborate.” 

“Despite my attempts to meditate in ways which have previously proven effective, I have been unable to reach even the most basic of meditative states. As such, I have been unable to process events and my emotions have become both unpredictable and uncontrollable.” 

“Many Vulcans have experienced difficulties, though have been able to achieve some benefit from meditation,” T’Gron stated. “I must consult with the other Healers before recommending a course of action in your case. I shall spend the afternoon creating the most logical treatment plan and we will meet again in the morning. You will be available should I have further queries?” 

“I will be in possession of my PADD. You may contact me there. Should my plans meet with your approval, I intend to observe the progress of New Vulcan and meet my father.” 

T’Gron was busy making notes and spoke without looking at him. “It would be wise for you to meet with your father first. You should not be unattended in your state.” 

His state? Spock felt his knuckles turning white as he tried to conceal exactly how bothered he was by the cold and clinical way she behaved toward him. It felt dehumanizing, though perhaps that was the goal. The human in him was the problem, after all. 

“Thank you, Healer T’Gron,” he said, forcing a neutral tone onto his voice. “I will heed your counsel and be available should you require my input.” 

The Healer said nothing more, so Spock rose and exited the room. No one was waiting for him and there was no one to consult for directions, so Spock opened his PADD and attempted to decipher a map from what information he had gathered on New Vulcan. Unfortunately, most of it was on the projects and experiments being performed there- not the geography. 

Spock headed toward the part of town which looked more like government and less like science, knowing his father would likely be there. He wondered briefly where Selek had gone, finding he’d developed a strange fatherly attachment to… himself. His counterpart had a wisdom Spock one day aspired to match, and at the moment he would likely be able to inform Spock’s navigation. Unfortunately, no aid was to be had, but he was fairly certain he’d found the building most likely to house ambassadors and their aides. 

“I am here to see Ambassador Sarek,” he told the Vulcan at the front desk. 

“Your business?” 

Spock almost replied _I am his son_ , but that would not be a logical enough reason to see his father during the work day. “I have information to hand deliver from Starfleet,” he replied. It wasn’t exactly a lie. He did fully intend to inform his father of what Starfleet was up to. There were several planets with fascinating biological and environmental studies that Vulcan might find use in. As Ambassador, his father would likely be responsible for negotiating New Vulcan’s place in the discoveries. 

The Vulcan then seemed to realize who Spock was and Spock did not appreciate the look being sent his direction, but he seemed to be getting his way, so it was something he would ignore. Spock did not move to the waiting area and instead continued to stand at the desk for four more minutes until he heard his father’s familiar voice say, “Spock.” 

He turned, face out of practice but blank nonetheless. “Father,” he greeted, holding up a ta’al. 

Without another word, he followed the elder Vulcan to what he could only assume was his father’s office. He spotted a holo on the man’s desk: a much younger Spock being held by his mother. In it, his mother was smiling at the image capture device and Spock’s face was blank- except for his eyes. His eyes were lit up and alive, something that had gone out of him during school. He forced himself to look away, an eyebrow rising as if to say _Really? Is this not sentimental and illogical?_

His father shut the door and inclined his head in an almost-nod. “I find that, as I age, people have become more important to me than ideas.” 

Spock felt his cheeks color. To hear his father admit to any kind of emotion was unbelievable and fractured Spock’s own view of reality. “You are aware of the purpose of my visit?” 

“You wish to report on things of interest from Starfleet.” 

Spock opened and shut his mouth. “The purpose of my visit to New Vulcan,” he elaborated. 

“I am aware that you have been to see the Healers,” his father replied. “Is there cause for concern?” 

“Vulcans do not worry, father. _Kaiidth_.”

Sarek took a seat- not behind the desk, but in one of the chairs in front of it. Spock did not take the other. He was disconcerted by his father’s strange behavior, and did not know how to navigate this new dynamic that seemed to exist between them because of it. “Spock, I know I have never been as demonstrative of my affection as your mother was. I have often wondered if encouraging you to conform to Vulcan values exclusively was a mistake. You have always been a child of two worlds, Spock.” 

“Your encouragement was vital,” Spock assured him. “My peers-“

“I am well aware of your peers, Spock. I was present for the fights and, though your mother assured you otherwise, I saw your tears. Never learning to console you the way she could is one of my deepest regrets.” 

“Father, regret is illogical. Walking a more difficult path has made me stronger, and I am grateful for this.” 

His father shook his head with a sigh. “What ails you, Spock? Is your life at risk?” His father gave him a look of _sadness_ when he sensed Spock’s hesitation. “What can I do?” 

Spock shook his head. “There is nothing. Healer T’Gron is still attempting to determine the cause of my difficulties. I have been unable to achieve any kind of meditative state since the destruction of Vulcan-That-Was.” 

“Spock…”

“I have found a few means of coping,” Spock assured him. He was extremely uncomfortable perceiving even the slightest hint of emotion from his father. “I believe it to be very probable that my troubles will be resolved in a satisfactory manner.” 

His father looked at him and Spock felt a wave of unsteadiness crash through him. His father’s eyes were wet with the threat of tears. He smiled sadly at his son. It was a small smile, but it was there. “I hope so, Spock.” Clearing his throat, the elder Vulcan gestured for Spock to take the other chair, which he did with great discomfort and hesitation. “What news of Starfleet?” 

Spock was incredibly relieved to turn to business. He told his father about several interesting reports he’d read on botanical and geological surveys that might be of interest to New Vulcan and then began to relay some details on the planetary system the Enterprise would undoubtedly be in the midst of exploring right now. He couldn’t help but wonder how his captain was faring. He was familiar with the human saying that no news was good news, but Spock could only think that no news was exactly that- no news. It was illogical to wonder as there were other things to expend his energy toward, but he could not stop himself. 

“Do you expect updates from your crew?” asked his father, as if reading his thoughts. 

“I do not know,” Spock admitted. “It was not discussed. As I am on a type of medical leave, the captain may decide that I should not be disturbed.” 

“This displeases you.” Spock tried to object, but his father cut him off. “I may not have been socialized to recognize emotion since birth as your mother was, but you are my son, Spock. Our telepathic bond has never been as strong as it should be, but you are my son.” 

Something inside Spock clenched. He did not know what his father was offering him, but he wanted it. Something deep and primal in him craved whatever attention or love or concern that was in his voice when he called Spock _son_. “Is it because of my hybrid nature?” he asked in a small voice. 

Sarek shook his head. He swallowed and looked away. “It is my own fault, Spock. I pushed you away, thinking it would benefit you to believe that Vulcans felt nothing, but it is clear I have done you a great disservice. We do feel, Spock. We feel too deeply if we do not practice strict control. However, you are half-human, Spock. If any Vulcan could live with his feelings, it should be you. Human emotion is powerful, but it is more tempered than that of a pre-reformation Vulcan. I fear that, by encouraging to to try not to feel, I have only taught you disregard for your peers. I do not want you to live your life alone, Spock. Even a Vulcan requires connection with other minds.” 

Spock did not know how to respond. This was the nature of his trouble exactly, but he could not tell his father so. “I am not alone,” he promised. “I have… friends.” 

“Not just friends, Spock. Someone who you can connect with on a deep and personal level. Someone you love. Someone more important than ideas.” 

Spock felt his cheeks color, but this time it wasn’t because of the raw emotion in his father’s eyes. “Jim,” he whispered. He knew Jim didn’t like the word, but Spock was certain beyond all doubt that it applied. “He is t’hy’la.” 

His father smiled, and this time it was not small. “You love each other.” 

Spock nodded, and he even felt his own lips quirk slightly before his face fell. “As Ambassador, you have access to restricted files.” 

“I do,” Sarek frowned. “I do not see how-“

“Can you access unrestricted information on the Tarsus IV incident?” 

“Tarsus IV?” his father echoed. “Spock, why are you interested in that tragedy?” 

Spock felt a coldness fill him. His father knew something about it. His posture was stiff and guarded, and if that wasn’t a sign of dishonest intent, Spock did not know what was. “What happened on that planet, father?” 

“I cannot say for certain,” his father replied carefully. 

“But you do know that the official history is a lie.” 

His father nodded. “Spock, I do not have any answers to give you.” 

“Do you know what happened?” Spock demanded angrily. His father had essentially just admitted to screwing him up so badly he could go mad or die. He could very well give him some answers. 

“I do not,” Sarek replied in a tight voice. 

“Vulcans do not lie,” Spock stated coldly. 

“And I am telling you the truth,” he replied. “I do not know what happened on Tarsus IV. I know it was traumatic. Many survivors did not remain survivors.” 

“Jim did,” Spock replied and his eyes were blazing before he realized that was what he was truly angry about. His father was not at fault. He steeled himself. “I want to help him, but what happened to him there was so terrible he cannot even say the name of the planet, let alone what happened there.” 

“There were two Vulcans on the planet,” his father nodded. “The one who survived was nearly mad when he came back to us. He had panic attacks in which he would hurt himself and others. The Healers could not help.” 

“What happened to him?” Spock asked. 

“A version of kolinahr,” his father replied with a sad smile. “A sort of psychic surgery. I think the young Vulcan who died there may have followed the easier path.” 

Spock shook his head. “Jim knew him. The Vulcan who died. They were… close.” Spock felt jealousy rising in his chest and he hated himself for it. His emotions were getting worse without Jim around. “I have tried to tell Jim that we are t’hy’la, tried to explain what that means, but apparently the Vulcan who died on Tarsus IV told him the same thing, so now he will not hear the word. He said that Vulcan- he calls him Ty, a shortening of t’hy’la, I believe- bled out in his arms.” 

This entire conversation seemed to make his father unhappy. Spock still believed he knew something about Tarsus IV that he was unwilling to reveal. “I am glad you feel so strongly for him, Spock, but the t’hy’la bond is-“

“-what we have,” Spock insisted. “When we are in contact, I can hear his thoughts as clearly as if he spoke them, father. He is t’hy’la. Truly.” 

Spock took in a shaky breath and was put off to realize he had somehow grown overcome. Tears blurred his vision but thankfully remained in his eyes. Sarek seemed to be speechless for several moments before he finally said, “But he is… a human.” 

Spock shrugged, a distinctly human gesture that he hadn’t realized had become a subconscious response instead of one he’d carefully adopted to better assimilate. “He is t’hy’la. He is home.” 

The ambassador nodded, though he still looked troubled. About what, Spock would have to discover later as his father’s PADD went off with some kind of urgent business. He sent Spock a file that contained a map and addresses to important locations. His father’s home was the first, but Spock felt very much like staying with Selek and not the man who seemed to be so full of guilt and secrets. The other addresses included all the major laboratories and field sites. There was only one library, and it was small. Spock was afraid to find out just how much information was lost in the destruction of their planet. Vulcans were very protective of their culture and studies, and it had hurt them in the end. Every backup of their data had been on-planet, with a closed network. What little had been preserved in the few science vessels in space would be tragically small compared to the centuries of knowledge their race had catalogued through the years. 

He made his way leisurely toward the address Selek had sent him, eyeing the local flora curiously. Botany had never been Spock’s primary love, but it was something he’d studied. Unlike many of his peers, Spock had never chosen a focus. He studied everything in his effort to be better than his peers so they could not claim his human genes made him inferior. In a way, they still might. What if it was his human side which was causing his current difficulties? Spock was the first and only Vulcan-Human hybrid. Perhaps that was a good thing. His emotions had always been too strong. Only through sheer force of will had Spock grown able to suppress them. 

Selek was not home, but the security sensor at the door recognized him and immediately allowed him access. Spock wasn’t entirely comfortable with entering the dwelling for the first time without its primary occupant, but Selek had told him he was welcome to stay. Spock found the dwelling to be comfortable, maybe too comfortable. It was designed by someone with very similar tastes to his own, so it felt too much like his own home. Still, it was better than the emotion his father seemed to display now. There were two bedrooms, and the first had a holo of a man Spock recognized immediately as an older Jim Kirk. He quickly shut the door, not wanting to wonder if his Jim would reach that age. That left the other room to be the guest room. 

His bag was already on the bed, as if Selek had known he would choose to stay here rather than with his own father. Maybe he was already aware of the change in his- their?- father. Whatever the cause, Spock was grateful as he was exhausted and ready to sleep. 

It was early, but he had a very important appointment in the morning. 


	21. Chapter 21

It had been a month since Jim had said goodbye to Spock and Calarita had been killed. They’d successfully avoided any more injury or death and Lieutenant Andrews had proven even more capable than Jim had dreamed. She was suited to command, even if her division was sciences. She could be a first officer or captain one day if she wanted, but he had a feeling she was more of a Scotty. She loved her projects too much to leave them. 

Jim had been checking in on her less frequently now. He’d been worried about her and how she was coping, but there hadn’t been a need. She was strong, maybe too strong for her own good. After the first week, he’d come every couple days and now he was down to once a week unless she requested his input. Today was his weekly check-in. 

She was hard at work at one of the computers. So far, all they’d figured out was that the range on this thing was much larger than they’d originally anticipated. Andrews and her team had calculated it to cover all the way out to the orbit of Elnath III, possibly IV. The working theory was that someone had mining interests in the Elnath galaxy and was trying to conceal what exactly was available. They could detect dilithium on Elnath IV, but the third planet had just a little too much interference for them to get a clear reading on the soil make up. 

“Lieutenant,” Jim greeted. 

She looked over absently and then seemed to remember he was talking to her. “Morning, captain!” 

“Evening, but close enough,” he chuckled as he came over to see what was on her screen. “How’s it going?” 

“About the same,” she sighed. “I’ve tried about a hundred different algorithms, but this thing is encrypted seven ways to Sunday.” 

Andrews and her team had been trying to shut the thing down, but it hadn’t been going well. They’d managed to establish a remote connection to its core but between the alien coding language and the encryption, they’d barely managed to figure out that it reached farther than they expected. “Anyone I can send to help?” 

She shook her head. “I consulted Lieutenant Uhura on some of the linguistics of the code. She and Gordon managed to figure out how to talk to it at least, but the off switch has been hard to find.” 

“What if we don’t turn it off?” he suggested. “Can we just tell it to do something else?” 

She huffed. “Maybe, but it’s not really that simple. It doesn’t recognize our authority. There’s probably some kind of security code it wants.” 

“Tricky,” Jim nodded. 

“We’ll get there, it’s just… going to take a while.” She paused and Jim was about to offer some encouragement and belief in her team, but she abruptly changed the subject. “I called Fay and Tina last night. I know I said I’d do it sooner, but…”

Jim instinctively sat in the chair next to her. “It’s hard,” he suggested and she nodded. “You know, you were one of the first things they thought about when I called them. They love you.” 

She let out a watery laugh. “I know. That’s why it’s so hard. My mom was Starfleet, killed in action. My dad was a private analyst and he never approved of… well, me. Everything I did was wrong- especially joining Starfleet.” 

Jim swallowed thickly. “That sounds rough.” 

She nodded. “Anyway, my own family was never really… a thing. So, becoming part of Dante’s family was a dream come true. And now it’s never going to happen. It was like I finally had a family and now…”

Jim’s heart was breaking for her. “You know, I was in a similar situation when I was young. Father killed in action, mother off world more often than not. I stayed with a couple who ran a farm. They’re not related to me in any way, but I’d still consider them family. You can still have that with the Calaritas. I’m sure they would love that.” 

She gave him a bittersweet smile. “Thank you, sir,” she replied. “I just can’t imagine them wanting the reminder…”

Jim shook his head. “They already lost one member of their family. Don’t make them lose another. Besides, why would they want to forget him? Do you?” 

She shook her head. “No,” she replied and suddenly the tears began. Jim reached out, placing his hand over hers. It was a good moment before she composed herself, but Jim was pretty confident she needed to cry some more later. He wasn’t going to mention it, though. He knew what that kind of loss felt like and he wasn’t going to question the way she handled it. That kind of loss got handled however you could. There was no right answer here, only heartache. “Sorry. It’s just I can’t imagine ever finding anyone else like Dante. It’s like there’s this hole inside me.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jim assured her, his own eyes shining and not just because he knew the feeling. “If you ever need an ear or hell, a stiff drink… I can absolutely track something down. Dr. McCoy has a secret stash of the good stuff.” 

That did the trick. She let out a little laugh. “Thanks, but I’m not really a drinker. My drug of choice is tech and algorithms.” 

“So I should leave you to it then? Am I being kicked out?” 

She grinned. “You’re the captain. You don’t get kicked out.” 

“Oh, I get kicked out,” he assured her. “Especially if I’m in the way. Before I get kicked out though, do you think there’s any reason we should wait on this before assembling a team to explore Elnath II?” 

She hesitated. “The interference does cover the planet. It could be shielding something there. Gordon is pretty sure this thing has cloaking tech in it.” 

“We’d discussed how odd it was that a class M had no life signs at all.” 

“It might be safest to start on IV,” she suggested. “The intereference might not reach that far.” 

“Noted. Thank you, Lieutenant. I’ll leave you to it.” 

Jim headed to his own quarters after they said goodbye and found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, staring into space. He didn’t know how long he sat like that before he realized he was doing it and slipped of his shoes. 

Jim missed Spock. He managed to forget just how much while he was working, but alone in his quarters? He’d gotten extremely accustomed to having a warm body curled against him at night. After the first night of not quite feeling right enough to sleep, Jim had gone through to Spock’s quarters and stolen his pillow to hug and that had mostly done the trick, but it had been weeks and Jim’s own scent had covered up any smell of Spock. He’d considered calling him several times, but the time difference on New Vulcan was significant (though not significant enough that he could fool himself into believing he was doing anything but making excuses) and he didn’t want to interrupt Spock’s convalescence. 

After an hour of failing to sleep, Jim took the two pillows through the bathroom and stood awkwardly in Spock’s quarters. It had seemed like a good idea until he was there. Now he felt like an intruder. As many games of chess they had played here, they had always slept in Jim’s quarters. Spock’s room felt like a sanctuary, like it only belonged to Spock. Hurriedly, Jim grabbed the blanket, awkwardly slinging it around his shoulders as he grappled with the pillows and scurried back to his own bed. 

Jim had just finished wrapping the blanket around Spock’s pillow when his PADD went off with a new message, just about scaring him into an early death. Even worse, the message was from Spock, as if he knew Jim was slowly pilfering the textiles from his first officer’s quarters. Instead, he opened up a message telling him that his presence (or lack thereof) was felt- and wasn’t that something, that it was _felt_?

There wasn’t much to the message except to inform the captain that his first officer was making progress, that his hybrid heritage was in fact the main issue, and that they had developed some kind of therapy tailored to take his unique biology into account. 

_Selek keeps an image of your counterpart and I cannot help but wonder if you will grow into the same man and hope that I may be present to see it._

Jim realized with a swoop of his stomach that he was smiling. Spock wanted to grow old with him. That was how Jim read it, anyway. He read the missive several times before starting to compose his own. He told Spock about the tech that wouldn’t shut down, about Calarita, and then assured him he was staying as safe as he could. _I want to grow old with you too, you old softie,_ he typed with a smirk. Jim explained the coding issue as best as he could, knowing Spock would want to work on the issue himself in his spare time, though it sounded like he didn’t have an unbearable amount of it. There were a few mentions of the greenhouses and also about a project Selek was working on, though Spock didn’t give any details on the latter. 

He apologized for not writing sooner and encouraged Spock to keep him updated on absolutely anything. Pressing send, Jim reluctantly set the PADD aside and climbed into bed, curling around Spock’s blanket curled around his pillow. Jim didn’t know how long he could keep this up. Spock only had so many linens. 

Suddenly, his PADD was going off again and he reached for it, answering the call instinctively. Spock’s face filled the screen and Jim melted. “Spock,” he grinned. 

Spock looked about to reply with a similar greeting when his gaze lowered. “Is that my blanket?” 

Jim felt his cheeks turn dark red, but he wasn’t about to admit the situation was anywhere near as embarrassing as it was. “Well, your pillow doesn’t smell like you anymore.” 

This time, it was Spock’s turn to blush. “I was unaware you would desire such sensory stimulation in my absence. I would have left some clothing.” 

Jim opened and closed his mouth in a very Spock-like manner before managing, “You’re making fun of me.” 

Spock touched the screen and gave him an earnest look. “I am doing no such thing, Jim. As I found myself harboring a great desire to see your face and hear your voice, it is clear I am not above sensory stimulation myself.” 

Jim softened, his eyes tracing Spock’s features. “Any idea when you’ll be- back on board?” Jim barely managed to correct himself before he said _home_.

“Speculation would be unwise,” he responded sadly. “Healer T’Gron and I are making definite progress, but I cannot begin to estimate the duration.” 

“I miss you,” Jim whispered. 

“And I you, ashayam,” Spock replied. Jim shivered a little at the name. 

“What does asha- what does it mean?” 

“Ashayam,” Spock repeated a little more clearly, “means beloved. I hope this endearment is agreeable to you as it encompasses my feelings on the matter.” 

“It’s agreeable,” Jim assented. “I belove you too.” They stared at each other for a moment before Spock raised an eyebrow. “I should allow you to sleep,” he stated. “It is early on New Vulcan, but you should be going to sleep in order to achieve an optimum amount of-“

“It’s okay, Spock. Maybe I’ll call you in the morning. To say goodnight.” 

“As agreeable as I would find that, Jim, I am not very good at communicating after my sessions with Healer T’Gron. I am usually too exhausted to do more than go to bed.” 

“Okay,” Jim agreed. He wasn’t sure if he liked the sound of that. “Good morning, Spock.” 

“Good night, Jim.” 

They disconnected and Jim felt a pang, but mostly he felt warmer. Hearing and seeing Spock had done him a lot of good. He seemed like he was doing okay, and that was all Jim needed from him for now. 

So with that need filled, he really did need to do as Spock said and sleep. It was going to be a long day of paperwork to prepare for the mission on Elnath IV. Starfleet would expect detailed reports and scans of the minerals there before making any decisions about the viability and cost effectiveness of mining it. That meant sectioning out the planet and assigning people to cartography and geology. Jim was tired just thinking about it. He drifted off immediately and was rewarded with a nightmare. Ty didn’t speak or even move. He simply stood there, bleeding, looking at Jim with utter and unmasked betrayal in his eyes. It was as if he wanted to ask why Jim had the audacity to try to replace him when they had been through so much together. Andrews and Calarita had probably never been through anything more traumatic than a first date and even she wouldn’t entertain the thought of filling that hole. So how could Jim? 

They were halfway through the senior staff conference the next morning when Sulu called a break. “Mister Sulu-“

“Captain, if I might have a word,” Sulu interrupted before Jim could say they didn’t need a break. “We’ve been at this for four hours, so I think we should make sure everyone gets lunch. Elnath IV isn’t going anywhere.” 

Four hours. It couldn’t be lunch time already, could it? Jim nodded without checking the time because he knew Sulu wouldn’t lie. “Didn’t realize how late it was,” he mumbled. There were more than a few looks his direction as the command team filed out, leaving him alone with Sulu. 

“Something on your mind, captain?” 

Jim sighed. For one, he didn’t really like being called captain but hearing Sulu call him Jim would probably be weirder. “Didn’t sleep well last night,” he admitted. “I want to get this thing wrapped up so we can move on. Something about this system just feels… off.” 

Sulu crossed his arms, leaning back against the table casually. “Sure it’s the system and not that we’re missing our first officer?” 

“Sulu-“

“We all miss him, captain,” Sulu assured him. “But you two have this kind of banter thing you do… He might be a Vulcan, but it’s obvious you’re friends. Good friends. The ship isn’t the same without him.” 

Jim gave a nod of acknowledgement. “I got an update from him last night. Things on New Vulcan are going well, but he can’t say for sure how much longer he’ll be needed there.” 

There must have been something in Jim’s face, tired as he was, that made him more transparent than usual. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” 

“All I can say is he was needed there urgen-“

“I mean with Commander Spock. There’s nothing he can do on New Vulcan that someone else can’t. The only reason he’d go there is if-“

“Don’t go there, Sulu,” Jim warned. “Even if Mister Spock was sick in some way, he’s a very private person and wouldn’t want anyone to know.” 

“Noted. Now, I was serious about lunch, you know. You need to eat something too. Sir.” 

Jim chuckled and shook his head. “Has Bones gotten to you too?” 

“Doesn’t have to, sir. The Enterprise is like a family. We look out for each other.” 

With a small smile, the captain agreed. “And you want me to ease up on everyone a little.” 

“That wouldn’t hurt.” 

“Noted. But I was serious about getting out of this system as soon as possible. It really does give me the heebie jeebies.” 

“The what?” 

“You’ve never heard-? Never mind. Let’s get some food. Do you play chess, Sulu?” 

“Chess, sir?” 

“Never mind. I was thinking about some sparring later if you’re interested. Scotty’s programmed some new sim for the holosuite. Something about a Gor… Gorn? Gorm. I forget. Supposed to be a challenge.” 

“Sounds fun.” 

Jim grinned then. Sulu wasn’t Spock, but he was still a friend and a damn fine first officer. 

Two days later, they landed on the planet and found nothing to be alarmed over- except that there were no minerals to be mined on the planet. It was not just devoid of dilithium, but everything else. Half the planet was water and half of it was molten magma. Thankfully, the entire landing team ended up in the water. It was boiling and burned them so badly Scotty had to extrapolate on his own (from pained shouting that overmodulated their comms so the orders couldn’t be understood) that they needed to be immediately beamed back up. The four of them spent hours in med bay being cut out of their suits and prodded with dermal regenerators. Sulu had gotten the worst of it. His suit had melted to his legs, causing a lot of difficulty for Bones and his staff. The rest of them had gotten away with only third degree burns. 

Jim hated being right about these things. Whatever that thing on the first planet was, it was definitely there to manipulate readings on every planet in the system. Their sensors had been completely tricked, and Jim wasn’t going to allow beam-downs any longer. They would take a shuttle and he’d have a crew at the transporter and keeping an eye on the scanners at all times in case the shuttle was attacked. 

There was definitely something in this system, and some kind of intelligence wanted to protect it. 

The only thing was that Jim wasn’t so sure he wanted to find out what it was anymore. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the chapter where the anti-Vulcan hate crime tag becomes relevant. It's definitely perpetrated against young Spock by his peers, so take care. It's rough.  
> Also this is where i stop posting for ~10hours and head back to work, leaving you lot on rather a low note. Sorry, dances_with_vulcans. I see you reading and you're my fave rn. <3

Spock had found a great amount of assurance in speaking to Jim face to face, even if they were millions of kilometers apart. It also brought him… joy… to find that Jim missed him enough to attempt to recreate an approximation of him in absentia. He breathed in and out, allowing himself to feel the pleasant sensation of loving and being loved in that way. 

Healer T’Gron’s main course of treatment was to teach Spock to actually experience his feelings. Her theory was that, because he did not process his experiences (feelings, he reminded himself), they had built up and become toxic to him. By bottling them up (a human phrase T’Gron had adopted in her research), he was setting himself up to overflow. 

Their sessions consisted of walking through his mind together and forcing Spock to relive each and every memory, this time through the lens of emotion. As everyone was so fond of pointing out, Spock was a child of two worlds and he needed to live his life in both. His biology was unique and by ignoring his human half, he was like a fish try to ignore that its wings were actually fins. Like the fish, he had to learn to fly through water instead of attempting to fly above it. 

Spock could very easily imagine how a fish trying to fly above water could get tired. It was also important for it to recognize that its moments in the air were not flight. Jumping over and over was not the same thing as flying, which he would never be able to do. 

Spock was aware that most Vulcans organized their thoughts in a visual way, but it had never been so clear to him as when T’Gron had allowed him to view her own mind. It looked like the wing of the library in Vulcan-that-was which held all of their physical books and records. She did not allow him to see any of her memories (it would have been unprofessional), but she did explain that it was categorized by the nature of the experience: useful things, things that needed to be addressed later, things that held no consequence on her current state. There were also sections for various information by topic of study that she’d learned over the years, and everything was chronological within the section. 

Spock’s mind, however, was an empty room filled with boxes. Each box was full of files, some overflowing. Apparently Spock had not been bottling it up, so much as boxing it up. There were moments strewn haphazardly on the floor in a way that seemed to legitimately pain Healer T’Gron to witness. 

She had helped him mentally construct file cabinets so that his memories could be organized and his mind helped to rest without it all scattering and blowing around. She had him relive each one before he was allowed to file it to ensure that it went in a logical location. 

It was exhausting. Spock had already lived his entire life and doing so again was sometimes pleasant, but more often painful. Even the Healer seemed to have a negative response to the bullying of his peers. 

Today, they had gone through most of the year in which he’d finally snapped and beaten one of his bullies so badly he’d broken his nose and even one of his cheekbones. If the Healer felt anything or had any opinions on his actions, Spock could not detect them. That went into the Cabinet of Regret. It had begun as the Drawer of Regret, but Spock apparently despised so many of his own choices that he required several Drawers. 

Unlike Healer T’Gron’s mind, they had decided to organize Spock’s by emotion- a concept he was not entirely comfortable with. There was Joy, Pride, and Love. Unfortunately, they were only three Drawers which made up his Cabinet of Good. He had another Cabinet of Utility, which contained Lessons, People, Pain, and Fear. Healer T’Gron did not question his decisions on which drawers belonged in which cabinets. They both knew the survival implications of Fear. It kept you on your toes, steered you from danger. Logically, one could argue the same for pain, but Spock did not just find pain useful for the way in which it alerted him to harmful stimuli. He found it useful as a reminder that all things are temporary, whether they were positive or negative. 

_But what of t’hy’la?_ The Healer’s voice echoed in his own mind. She had been aware of his musings more than he had been. 

_T’hy’la is not subject to the rules of things. T’hy’la is its own truth._

He could sense a satisfaction in his answer, then. Spock did not question Jim or his connection to the man. It would never even occur to him to do so. Jim was already so deeply ingrained in Spock that if he were temporary as all other things, Spock would be just as temporary. He could not live without Jim. 

_It is unwise to form attachments which may destroy you,_ warned the Healer. 

_He is t’hy’la,_ he reminded the ethereal voice. _The attachment was not mine to make._ Another memory overwhelmed him then as T’Gron retrieved one from behind a desk. His bullies had found him a week after his loss of control and _experimented_ on him as a form of retribution. Sure, they had a basis of scientific question in their line of “experimentation,” but Spock had always known it was not curiosity that drove them, but a sadistic need to prove he was inferior in every way to them. Once he was free of the feeling, he immediately tore the page from Healer T’Gron’s hand and put it in the Drawer of Pain. Spock struggled for a moment, knocking the folder loose within the drawer and scrambling to get it back on the track. It was stuck because of the angle and his hands were shaking. Suddenly, he felt Healer T’Gron’s hands on his own. She was not fully physically represented in his mind, but she could communicate with him and interact to an extent. 

_Perhaps you require a sub-folder for the Drawer of Pain,_ she suggested calmly. _The object is not merely to organize, but to understand, S’chn T’Gai Spock._

Spock nodded, taking a breath and shutting his eyes. He let the experience wash through him and felt himself shaking, both inside and out, as he truly felt the real emotion behind the experience: shame. Spock was peripherally aware of tears leaking from the eyes of his physical body, and suddenly he spotted the folder labelled Shame. Neatly, he tucked the page into it and slowly fixed the one he’d knocked off the track earlier. 

_May we adjourn for today?_

Something in the Healer must have realized Spock was near his breaking point because she slowly withdrew, allowing him to come back to himself at his own pace. Slowly, he opened his eyes and raised them to meet her calm gaze. He could not begin to imagine what she was thinking about what she’d learned. Part of him yearned to ask why, what purpose could tormenting him serve? What logic was there in the cruelty of his childhood peers? 

He knew she could not answer however. Healer T’Gron was not one of those children and she was invested in helping him. Vulcans might all share similar values, but they were not all alike. He could not expect her to understand them any more than he did. 

“You are making good progress,” she informed him. “Have you been able to meditate on your own yet?” 

Spock shook his head and tried to keep his sadness and _shame_ out of it. “I am able to achieve a place of calm, but a true meditative state eludes me.” 

“This is good. It is my hypothesis that as we continue to organize and bring structure to your mind that you will find yourself increasingly capable of using it as you were meant to.” 

“The data so far would appear to support your hypothesis,” he agreed. “I require clarification, however. When you say that I will be using my mind as I was meant to, are you differentiating between my mind and that of a full-blooded Vulcan?” 

“Yes. It has been a mistake to ask your mind to behave in the same manner. I fear harm has been done to you in the attempt to conform to a manner of existing that you may not be biologically capable of achieving. This is not to discredit your own mind, S’chn T’Gai Spock. Many Vulcans forget the true meaning of IDIC. Your difference is not a weakness until others make it so. In your own comparison, a bird is strong in the air, but attempting to fly underwater would be detrimental. Its wings would grow heavy with water, and it would likely drown with the weight.” 

Spock did his best to hide the lump forming in his throat. “Thank you.” His voice was thankfully steady, though he was all but overcome. No one had ever said things like this to him before. His mother had always assured him that he was perfect no matter what and his father had never expressed outright disapproval of his human tendencies, but Spock had never truly believed that he was as good as his peers. He had certainly never seen their need to steer clear of the water of emotion as a weakness. He’d seen it as a strength. Vulcans and humans were both land-dwellers in reality. Naturally, Spock had seen the metaphorical water as a bad place to be. 

“I must cancel our session tomorrow,” Healer T’Gron informed him without warning of the subject change. “We will resume the day after as usual, and I ask that you continue to attempt to meditate in my absence.” 

“Of course.” They were both standing now, ready to leave the room. Once again, Spock had much to meditate on if he could manage it. Today felt different, however. Spock felt as though he had had, for lack of a better word, a breakthrough. 

He returned to Selek’s dwelling and shut himself in the second bedroom. Healer T’Gron’s presence was ultimately helpful, but in some situations, Spock was certain he needed to review his memories without the knowledge that someone else was there. His perceptions were filtered when he knew there was an audience, and some memories he wanted to truly experience. It was, after all, Healer T’Gron’s theory that Spock needed to grow comfortable with his feelings and being able to identify them. Spock might never be able to truly express them unfiltered (even around Jim), but it was important that he did not filter them for himself. 

Spock settled into the center of the bed, electing to forego the traditional means of meditation. Something else Healer T’Gron had encouraged him to try was meditating in different positions and on different surfaces and so far he’d found the most effective place to be sitting cross-legged on a soft surface such as a bed. 

Closing his eyes, Spock returned to the visual representation of his mind and approached the Drawer of Pain and its new folder with great apprehension. This was one of his more painful memories, and he had little desire to relive it. Understanding and processing his emotions was the key component to his healing however, and the results he and Healer T’Gron had achieved so far left no room to argue its ineffectiveness. So he opened the Drawer and found the folder labelled Shame, thinking perhaps this memory was not the only one which belonged there. No sooner had he had the thought than the entire drawer became relabeled. No longer was this the Drawer of Pain. All the memories within were now labelled Shame. Tentatively, he located the lone file which had started it all, and pulled out the page with his most shameful memory in the Drawer. Immediately, it began to play and Spock was sucked into the mind of his younger self. 

_Hands on him, dragging him off the path to the learning center, covering his mouth, preventing him from moving enough to properly struggle. Two, four, six, seven hands… At least four of them, then. He knew exactly which four it would be, but that did not help him to escape. By the time they finally arrived in one of the student labs, Spock was shaking with both adrenaline and exhaustion. Immediately, they tied his arms and legs to the four legs of a chair. They didn’t bother with a gag because they all knew no one would be in this section of the academy today._

_Spock did not speak, merely stared at them as calmly as he could. There were five, not four. His chances of escape were zero if he had to rely on overpowering them physically. His eyes flicked to the exits, to the lab equipment, any chemicals he could read the labels on._

_“It is illogical to attempt to escape, Spock. There is nothing in your reach. If you somehow manage to elude your bonds, one of us will stop you before you can get to any of the lab equipment.”_

_Spock stared coldly at Stonn. He did most of the talking, always. The others always seemed to follow his lead, so clearly Stonn was the one Spock needed to address. Suddenly, there was a glint of silver and the new addition (whose name he couldn’t remember) was approaching him with a scalpel. Giving up on his pretense of serenity, Spock flinched and made an illogical attempt to rise from the chair or possibly back through it. His shirt was shoved up and the scalpel dragged cruelly across his stomach._

_“The subject does bleed green,” Stonn confirmed as though this were as routine as examining the chemical composition of a soil sample._

_Spock pressed his lips together in a desperate attempt to stem his tears. They came toward him with gauze, but there was no attempt to staunch the trickle of blood. One of them merely wiped a small amount and took it to a microscope as Stonn typed something into his PADD. His eyes were still black from the beating Spock had given him. Regrettably, there was no gratification in the knowledge for Spock whose blood was starting to leave a small stain on his waistband as it dripped._

_Spock cried out at the sudden and literal shock he received from some kind of prod they had clearly made themselves. He clenched his jaw, determined not to give them the satisfaction of any kind of response. “Subject responds to surprise more than to pain,” remarked the one operating the prod with another shock. “Increasing variable one.”_

_This time, Spock choked out a whimper. The voltage had increased and so had the speed at which Stonn was typing notes. The shocks did not stop, and Spock was able to regulate his responses by focusing on the frequency of them- and what he would do if he ever cornered one of his tormentors alone. “Increasing variable one.”_

_For the first time in his life, Spock felt true and unbridled hatred. Anger he had felt. Fury had burned within him before, but he’d never truly_ hated _anyone until this moment._

_“Increasing variable one.”_

_Spock was sobbing now as the shocks grew powerful enough to burn his skin._

_“Increasing-“_

_“Hold.”_

_There was silence. Spock’s cries had settled to whimpers now, and he held his breath in an attempt to regain control._

_“Subject becomes desensitized at approximately five minutes, increasing in correlation to voltage.”_

_“We may presume correlation is equivalent to causation.”_

_“Agreed. Introduce variable two.”_

_Instantly, Spock’s world went black as they blindfolded him and started over. They repeated the process, adding sound-blocking ear cups. They experimented with his ability to hold his breath- or rather go without air. By the time it stopped, his eyes were swollen with tears and his head ached._

_Spock was barely aware it had stopped. He only knew that his hands were suddenly free and that frightened him more than anything else. He still couldn’t see or hear and he flinched several times, expecting another assault._

_Finally, after several minutes of nothing, Spock ripped off the blindfold. His heart rate was too high and his eyes were too wide. Spock was feeling another new emotion: terror. He hurled the ear cups across the room and looked around. There was no one in the room with him, but there was a recording device watching him. He choked on a sob when he realized his humiliation was not yet over. The scalpel had been abandoned just out of his reach so he was forced to inch the chair little by little, hurting the burns and bruises with each hop. Finally, he got it and freed his feet._

_Spock wanted to crumple to the floor, but he couldn’t. Not with them watching._

_The device was smashed to little pieces on the floor before Spock even knew he was going to do it. He hoped it was borrowed from someone who would punish the children for breaking it. Spock dropped to his knees, holding his elbows as he began to truly cry._

_Spock would never belong. He would never find anyone who loved him the way his father loved his mother._

_His parents._

_That was the thought that finally helped him end his outburst. He had to pull himself together and get home. Spock had realized much earlier that this was retaliation and he could do nothing without risking more of it. Spock could not suffer something like this again. His mother could not find out because she would want some kind of justice that would only provoke further torment. His father would be ashamed to learn of Spock’s extreme outburst- sobbing, he had literally cried like a human baby. He wiped his eyes, knowing there would be no fixing the red, puffy look of them._

_Somehow, he avoided anyone getting a good look at him and went to sleep early, claiming a need to meditate._

Spock’s hands were shaking as he put the page away and came back to the physical world. His cheeks were once again wet with tears and he realized he could hear Selek in the kitchen. His counterpart had blessedly little to say about the state of him and merely offered him a cup of tea. Spock graciously accepted, letting the hot liquid soothe his nerves. 

He could not decide if it pleased him to skip a day of this or not. 


	23. Chapter 23

When Jim was finally, properly conscious Bones was all over him. It wasn’t the usual angry, you-got-yourself-hurt-and-I-patched-you-back-up-so-I-can properly-beat-you-up, all over him. This one was irritated by everyone and everything- not just Jim. “Bones, I know you are dedicated to the point of obsession, but you look like you didn’t sleep a wink last night.” 

“Oh, I tried, Jim! Believe me, I tried to sleep several winks last night, but I could barely blink before that damn first officer of yours was calling for an update!” Jim looked around the room, assuming Sulu would have been in the med bay with him. “Dammit, Jim! I’m talking about Spock! You had to go and get yourself boiled alive on a day when that Vulcan had nothing to do except call me and offer suggestions all damn night!” 

Jim felt his cheeks heat up a little in embarrassment. “Well…”

“I don’t want to hear it, Jim. You’re cleared to leave- but not for duty!- as long as you promise me you will call that green-blooded nightmare and get him off my ass.” 

“Y-yeah,” Jim stammered, wondering just how bad Spock had been to get Bones _this_ worked up. 

His skin felt tight as he stood. Jim was afraid to find out what, if anything, the medical staff hadn’t been able to heal. Jim preferred to rely on his looks, which wouldn’t be quite as easy if he had a lot of scarring. His brain was decent, but he preferred people to think he was all personality. It led to him being constantly underestimated, and to enemies letting the guard down. 

To his disappointment, Spock didn’t answer the call on his PADD. It was about 03:00 on New Vulcan, so Jim hoped he was getting some rest. He sat on the edge of his bed and pulled up the recorder. “Hey, Spock,” he said with a sheepish grin. “So Bones said I could only leave med bay if I promised to call you and ask you to let him get some sleep- Well, I guess he didn’t specifically say that, but I’m pretty sure he implied it. So, yeah, the uh… The interference on Elnath I is some kind of sensor-bamboozler- yes, I said bamboozler, what are you gonna do about it?- so we actually have no idea what’s on any of these planets. Don’t worry, we’re taking precautions now. No more beam-downs, Scotty himself is going to be at the transporter at all times we have an away team out… Bones thinks you’re worried or something. You don’t need to be, okay? You know our crew. They’re the best in the ‘Fleet. So, uh… Stop insulting them with your concern. We’re all doing just fine. Get yourself better and see for yourself. Okay? So, uh… Yeah. I’ll see you soon, I hope.” 

Jim hesitated. This was the point most people would say _I love you,_ or something. Jim wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say there. It wasn’t… them. Abruptly, he ended the recording and sent it off. If that didn’t reassure Spock, nothing really would. Besides, Jim had work to do. 

Bones might have barred him from duty, but he couldn’t bar Jim from talking to the crew or checking in. (He probably could, but Jim was going to get as much done as he could before the doctor figured out to stop him.) His first stop was engineering, to see Scotty. 

“Captain! Good to see you up and about!” 

“Thanks, just don’t tell Bones,” Jim replied hurriedly, sidling up to the man. “How are those modifications you’re making to the transporter going?” 

“Beautifully, captain,” Scotty nodded. “Outdone meself this time. Should only take about three tenths of a second to fully grab a pattern. That way, any damage done to the body after that… won’t be remembered by the transporter.” 

“Perfect, Scotty,” Jim beamed. “And the auto-beam-out?” 

“That one I cannae find a way to do, sir. I rigged up a function to trigger it from your badge, but there are too many other variables to consider which might affect an automatic function.” 

“Other variables?” 

“I cannae tie it in to your vitals because if you get worked up, you’ll be out prematurely or, if you don’t see it coming, you won’t be out at all. I cannae tie it to temperature or the environment because your own body temperature, any sun light… Do you see where I’m going with this, sir?” 

Jim nodded, deep in thought. “Can we at least get something that detects toxins or poisons?” 

Scotty lit up. “Aye, sir! That’d be a quick fix!” 

Jim beamed at the ease his chief engineer seemed to think this task would be completed with. “One last thing. Have you looked at any of the reports Lieutenant Andrews’ team has been putting in? I’d really like an engineering perspective.” 

“Admittedly, I haven’t, sir,” Scotty confessed. He scratched the back of his head absently. “To be quite honest, I’d like to see the thing in person before I gave any sort of opinion. Not sure if I quite trust it after what’s happened, though.” 

“It’s been looked over by at least one crewman with a focus in bomb disposal, and we’re pretty sure that unless you aggravate it, there’s no danger.” 

“You do realize that half of what I do is aggravate the parts to see what they do, right?” 

Jim chuckled, even though the man was quite serious. “I know, Scotty. I’d just feel better about the situation if my chief engineer had an opinion on the alien tech that’s wrecking our mission. If you could just kind of… look at it. Maybe you could send a drone? Something with a clear visual feed that can poke and prod for you? The team’s almost got one put together.” 

“Really?” 

“Well, I mean they will once I ask them to do it.” 

“Ach, I’ll get it,” Scotty grumbled. “I can whip it up faster than any of these. Besides, I hear they’re running simulations and algorithms at all hours. Been quite a drain on the system.” 

“Figuring out how to shut down that… whatever it is, interfering with our sensors is our top priority. It’s allowed to drain just about whatever it needs to drain.” 

“Couldn’t agree more. That’s why I’ve rerouted some sub-systems to give them more processing power. You wouldn’t believe the amount of-“

“I’ll take your word for it,” Jim interrupted. He might be feeling well enough to walk about, but he didn’t particularly want to get into technical specs just yet. “Say, Scotty. You wouldn’t be interested in some drinks with a few of us later, would you? I think we could all use a night off.” 

The engineer clapped him on the shoulder and Jim barely held back the wince. His freshly regenerated skin was still tender. “I’ve got just the bottle of Scotch. You leave that to me. We’ll be drinking the good stuff tonight.” 

Jim clapped the engineer’s shoulder. “Knew I could count on you. I’ll see what kind of snacks I can scrounge together that won’t have Bones up my ass about eating healthy. My quarters, say 1900?” 

“See you then!” 

The captain beamed at him and made his farewell as he headed out of the engine room. Part of him always wondered how he would have done in engineering- not badly, he’d wager, but Pike had dared him to do better than his dad. To do that, he had to take the command track. Besides, the chairs in engineering weren’t nearly as good. Jim liked his chair. 

He was on his way to the lab to check on their progress with the interference when he began to feel very suddenly tired. It wasn’t the type of tired he felt compelled to tell Bones about, just the kind of soul-deep, crawl into bed and never come out again tired. As he passed Spock’s empty lab, Jim had some idea why. 

He headed inside as if on autopilot. It seemed cold and clinical even though the only real difference was the Lack of Spock. “Lights,” Jim said and blinked as the glass of the test tubes and beakers sparkled to life. He stood there for a long moment, trying to picture Spock’s perfect posture on that punishing metal stool as he peered into the microscope before finally moving to it. Jim sat and peered through the eyeholes at the dust which had collected on the plate. He grabbed a sterile cloth and cleaned it up, feeling that it helped somehow. Jim worried about Spock more than he cared to admit. Part of the reason he refused to stop moving was that moving kept him away from those thoughts. 

It was several minutes before Jim finally finished his overly thoroughly cleaning of Spock’s microscope. It wouldn’t help, not really. Jim knew Spock had no idea what the dust status of his lab was across the galaxy, and that knowledge wouldn’t do anything to help fix whatever was wrong with his Vulcan mind. 

He pulled out his PADD and sent another, brief message: _Vid call me when you have the chance?_ Jim had just folded his hands under his chin on the table, staring bleakly at the very-clean microscope when there was a knock at the door. “Captain?” 

He looked up, probably looking quite dazed. Of all the people to find him pining over Spock, it had to be Uhura. “Yeah? I mean, yes. Yes, Lieutenant?” Jim felt his cheeks coloring. 

“I think we’ve identified a pattern in the noise, but the translation matrix can’t make heads or tails of it. Sounds almost like morse code, but again… nothing is coming up.” 

Jim folded his arms and nodded as his brain cleared and focused on the here and now once again. “Any theories at all, or are we at a dead end?” 

She sighed. “You can listen if you like, but I’m pretty certain we’re at a dead end. I sent what we have back to Starfleet Command and they’ll probably have some others look it over… but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.” 

“Well, it was worth a try. We did learn one thing at least: there’s a pattern. Makes it more and more likely that this was planted by an intelligent race, and it seems pretty obvious what planet they’re on.” 

“Sir?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m sure this is pretty obvious, but we’re looking at a dangerous mission here. This technology is more advanced than we are, and so is the language. If we can’t even translate the message laid into their interference, what chance do we have of first contact?” 

Jim leaned an elbow on the cold metal of the table, regretting it as soon as he did it, but unwilling to move and sacrifice his relaxed pose. “Not that I think it’ll be easy, but between the two of us, we have to come up with some way to understand each other. Maybe the translation matrix will have better luck with their spoken language.” 

“With all due respect, we’re talking about a people who made a boiling planet look safe to land on. That seems to me like a people who’d like curiosity to kill all comers.” 

Jim weighed her words. She was right, of course. Who or whatever had placed that tech on Elnath I didn’t care what happened to innocent explorers and it did seem almost intentionally malicious to portray Elnath IV as both harmless and useful. “Andrews and her team-“

“Are probably going to hit the same wall Communications did, Kirk,” she replied in exasperation, abandoning all form of professional decorum. “This system is dangerous. You and the away team almost died yesterday!” 

Giving a sheepish nod, Jim acknowledged what she was saying wordlessly. “What do you want me to do about it? We can’t just ignore this system.” 

“I’m not saying we should, Jim. I’m just saying maybe we should approach the situation as a hostile one. We’re on the defense now, but maybe we should also be on the offense. Or ready to be. As one of your cultural experts… This is not a friendly first contact. They’ve tried to kill us at least twice now. They already succeeded once.” 

“You’re right.” Jim’s voice was tight, but she didn’t mention it. She also hadn’t mentioned that she’d found him alone in Spock’s empty lab. He was grateful for both of these developments. “We’ll regroup and restrategize. Walk softly, carry a big phaser and all that.” 

“Good. I want to be on the next away team.” 

“What?” 

She raised her eyebrow as if challenging him to make her repeat himself. He did not want to accept that challenge. “Uhura, your specialty-“

“-is in xenolinguistics and cultures. If there’s anything to see on any of these planets regarding who we might be dealing with, I’m the best one to find it. If we run into the actual people, I’m the best one to try to talk to them. I’m going.” 

“Uhura-“

“I’m going.” 

“Fine, you’re going. Now stop bullying me or I’ll tell Bones you’re interfering with my recovery.” 

“You won’t.” 

“Oh, I so will.” 

“You’d also have to tell him you were working against his orders, and I would definitely tell him I found you moping over Spock’s lab table.” 

“Wh-?” Jim spluttered unintelligibly, unable to decide if he was trying to tell her how ridiculous that notion was or deny that it was true. 

“Jim, if you think this communications expert can’t tell the difference between two people who are involved professionally and romantically, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. Besides, he told me when he ended things between us. Well, I forced it out of him later, but that’s beside the point. If you’re t’hy’la, it’s not like I can blame you. Don’t worry. I mostly don’t hate you.” 

Jim felt his body tense when yet another person insisted on using that word. “I’d really appreciate if you didn’t use that word.” 

“I said I mostly _don’t_ hate you.” 

“What? No, the Vulcan word. That’s not a word I want to hear.” 

She gave him a funny look. “So you’re not…? I guess I misread things. I thought you two were together. Romantically.” 

“We are.” 

“But you aren’t soulmates?” 

“Uhura, we’ve been together for about two months, most of which he’s been across the galaxy. That’s a heavy question.” 

“I’m just saying, he seems to think you are. He cited it as the main reason he had to end things with me. He really thinks you have this rare Vulcan bond.” 

“Uhura, this isn’t really…”

“Look, I know I’m the last person who should be talking to you about this, but as the only other person Spock has been involved with romantically, you can use my advice. Plus… it’s not like I’ve stopped caring about him. And I know he’s dying to talk about this bond with the one person who can understand it like he does. Which is you, dummy.” 

“We haven’t… bonded, Uhura.” Jim’s face was really, _really_ warm now. 

She rolled her eyes at him and actually took a seat. “I can’t believe I’m about to give you the Vulcan version of the birds and the bees talk.” 

“I’d really rather not-“

“Jim Kirk, you are going to sit there and learn something before you screw up your life, his life, and the entire dynamic on board this ship.” 

Jim’s eyebrows rose in shock and he only stared in silent surrender. 

“Good,” she said. “Now. Vulcans, being Vulcans, require mental connection with their loved ones. As children, they’re all paired off with other Vulcan children as a form of mental betrothal. Thankfully, Spock’s bondmate was killed when Vulcan was destroyed- and I don’t care if it’s rude to say because she was a bitch and she hated him and made him miserable because he could _feel_ all of it. So he finds you and realizes that you are far more mentally compatible than any Vulcan couple he’s heard of outside of legend. I don’t know the details, Jim, but what little I’ve been able to learn about t’hy’la is that their souls are so tightly woven together that supposedly the death of one can literally kill the other. It’s like the Terran concept of soulmates, but with Vulcan bonds. He hasn’t told you any of this?” 

Jim felt like scum. “No,” he replied quietly. Jim hadn’t given him the chance. “I have some… history. With that word. We agreed not to use it.” 

She sighed again in annoyance. “Well, get over it. If you think any of us believe that bullshit about Spock being ‘needed’ on New Vulcan, you’re lying to yourself. Is he still having trouble meditating?” She shook her head at Jim’s nod of confirmation. “Next time you talk to him, ask him. Let him tell you about t’hy’la. If that’s what you truly are to him, then there must be something worthwhile under that playboy wall you put up. Let him behind it. Being shut out can make him physically sick.” 

Scum on the bottom of someone’s shoe. That’s what Jim was. “Thanks,” he replied, unable to look at her. “For telling me. I will. I’ll… do better.” 

“Good,” she replied. “I’ll forward what we have on the pattern. And, Jim? Maybe listen to Dr. McCoy for once and get some rest.” 

He smiled sadly. “I’ll try.” 

As she walked out and Jim forced himself to his feet, he decided to forego the rest of his tour and go straight to his quarters. If even Uhura, who only hated him a little, wanted him to get some rest… he probably needed it. Fluffing Spock’s blanket and pillow, Jim crawled into bed and curled around the now-familiar scent. He set an alarm before sending messages to Bones and a few other members of the command team to meet for drinks like he’d planned with Scotty. (“And yes, I am IN bed!” he added to Bones’ message.) 

Jim was surprised how easy it was to enjoy being cradled in warmth and softness. He was too driven to be on the move all the time, but for now he wanted to stay wrapped in the scent of his absent first officer until the real deal returned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it didn't make it into the fic, but Uhura definitely got drunk and angry one night and confronted Spock about his bullshit non-reasons for breaking up. Is what she means by "forced it out of him." Spock was thoroughly cowed and it was gr9.


	24. Chapter 24

Spock tried again to meditate, but his worry over Jim was overpowering. The more he tried to calm down, the tighter his chest grew with panic. He had called Doctor McCoy several times already, more than he should have, more than he would have in his right mind. Spock knew the doctor would notify him as soon as there was an update. He just couldn’t help but hope that perhaps the doctor had forgotten him. Jim had been unconscious and unresponsive for ten hours. 

Spock wiped furiously at his face and realized he was crying. There had been no session today, and he had been unable to engage in any form of self-care because he had awoken to a nurse answering Jim’s PADD when Spock attempted to call him. 

Because Spock could never suffer humiliation without an audience, Selek chose that moment to walk in the door. The home was laid out so that the first bedroom (Selek’s) was the door immediately on the right, then the bathroom further down the same wall. The second bedroom (for guests such as Spock) had its door just on the corner, in direct line with the home’s entrance. The door was open just enough for Selek to see his counterpart crying on the bed. There was a moment of hesitation on his part, but they’d made eye contact so he proceeded to Spock’s door. 

“Are you well, Spock?” 

“I have been attempting to meditate,” he said, voice thick. “It has been impossible for me to achieve since I learned this morning that Captain Kirk has been injured.” 

The elder Vulcan’s expression changed completely to one of what could only be described as horror. “Injured?” he repeated. 

“The entire away team was badly burned on their latest mission. There is some form of interference in the galaxy which did not allow for them to anticipate the danger. Jim has been unresponsive for almost eleven hours now.” 

Distraught was not the right word for either of them, but it was not the least correct either. Spock stared helplessly at his counterpart, almost calm except for the tear tracks and lack of focus in his gaze. A similar look threatened to take Selek’s piercing eyes, but instead he zeroed in on Spock. “May I attempt to assist in your meditation?” he asked. 

Spock gave a short nod and watched as his counterpart toed off his shoes outside the door to the guest room. He was very insistent that Spock think of it as his own, and that he claim it as his own space into which others could not intrude. Spock was not very good at that. He scooted backward on the bed to make space as Selek seated himself across from the younger Vulcan. He held out his hands, palms up and Spock placed his hands there, trying not to feel awkward or think too hard about their relationship to each other. 

Soon, he felt calm come rushing through the contact and he was unable to fight it. He did not want to, though his mind had other ideas. Images of Jim, hurt and alone, kept popping up even as Selek’s calm put them back down. The images finally slowed and so did Spock. 

_Is this how you meditate?_ Spock wondered. 

_This is a form of shared meditation which I have learned from the Healers on New Vulcan. It is a lesser form of the mind meld._

Spock took that in. This was very much like what Healer T’Gron did with him, except that she had never intentionally shared her emotions with him in this way. _May I ask,_ Spock hesitated. He wondered, yes, but did he truly want to know? 

_You may ask whatever you wish, Spock. If I deem the answer too risky, I will merely withhold it._

_Part of my treatment has been to relive childhood memories, many of which are unpleasant. I wish to know if you experienced similar unpleasantness and how you have processed it. I find it very difficult to simply file away and forget._

There was confusion for a moment. Spock knew some of his feelings about the memories had transferred to the older Vulcan, so the magnitude of the trauma would be obvious to him. Was his confusion on the negativity of the emotion or the question of coping? 

_Spock, memories are not meant to be forgotten. That is why we organize them. Even our darkest experiences provide insight and perspective._

Oh. He was confused that Spock wanted to get rid of his memories. 

_These memories do not feel as though they contribute value. For a long time, some of these experiences were paralyzing._

Somehow, Spock wasn’t sure entirely how events progressed, but without communication he was aware of, they were both in his mind, paging through the cabinets. Selek had his permission, though Spock was not sure how he had communicated this. 

_Due to our unique circumstances, our connection is much stronger than most others. I must confess that I am much disturbed by the drastic changes to your own childhood. The cruelty you have faced is far more sinister than my own memories. This one…_

Selek was holding up the experiment Spock had been forced to relive in his last session and though his sentence was unfinished, Spock understood. Again without communication, the Vulcan pair separated from the pseudo-meld. Spock stared blankly at his counterpart for a moment before admitting, “There were other experiments, though I do not recall the others being quite as unbearable as the first. Whether the later encounters were objectively less cruel or if the shock of the first…”

Selek gazed at him sadly. “I fear that Nero has once again altered this timeline in ways meant to hurt me through you. I do not know how he has caused this, but I am certain he did somehow. Even Vulcan curiosity is not cruel by nature.” 

Spock had to look away from the intense gaze. The young Vulcan had known too much cruelty to believe anything else as yet. Even his father’s treatment of him only bordered on indifference. The lack of treatment was the best Spock had ever hoped for from his fellow Vulcans. His human mother was his sole source of true and pure kindness in his adolescence. Spock often wondered if that was his true motivation for joining Starfleet: the hope that he deserved better than indifference. She had always seem so pleased for him…

“Spock?” 

He shook his head sadly. “Kaiidth. If it were not for their cruelty, I might not have been so eager to join Starfleet.” 

Selek did not correct him even though they both knew it was a weak excuse. If Selek had not suffered what Spock had and still become Kirk’s first officer, clearly the bullying had not been a critical motivator. 

Selek reached out a hand. “I believe you would benefit from rest, Spock. May I?” 

Dark hair bowed to grey in assent and, with a quick brush to his psi-points, Spock fell into a deep sleep. 

When he woke, his mouth was painfully dry and his eyes felt swollen from finally receiving a decent night’s rest. He literally rolled out of bed, barely landing on his feet as he stretched and wiped the sleep from his face. Or tried to. Washing it didn’t much help either. Grabbing his PADD to see how soon he had before his appointment with Healer T’Gron, his heart skipped to realize he had two messages from Jim. He didn’t hear anything past the sheepish _Hey, Spock_ at first. He was too busy looking at the self-conscious smile and the way Jim always shrugged off his pain in favor of assuring those he cared for. He actually brushed his two fingers against the screen as if trying to kiss his ashayam across the light years. There was hesitation at the end, like Jim had something else to say, but it abruptly ended and Spock was forced to realize he’d received none of the message except that Jim, his Jim, was well. 

Spock played it twice more, focusing on the details in case he had something to offer but there was nothing, and then once more to see that smile and the idiosyncratic way the captain stammered or would look away from the screen as soon as he saw himself. For himself, Spock could never look away from the image of Jim in front of him. 

The second message was a request for contact. It would be late in the ship’s day, but Jim would likely be awake. The captain of the Enterprise seemed incapable of simply resting. For several moments after establishing a connection, Spock did not believe there would be an answer. He was almost glad to think that Jim might truly be asleep, but the answer finally came. “Spock!” 

Jim’s cheeks were red and he was more exuberant than usual. “Jim,” he greeted, unable to stop himself from smiling at the sight. “You requested that I contact you?” 

“Hold on!” Jim said, more loudly than was necessary even though Spock could hear voices in the background. Suddenly, the screen was turned away and Spock was greeted with an image of others in Jim’s quarters, though Spock couldn’t quite make out who or how many because Jim refused to hold the PADD still. “Say hello to Spock!” 

He squinted a bit, trying not to show just how nauseating the image and shaking was. He detected four or five different voices at varying levels of intoxication. “Hold on!” Jim repeated and the image, in danger of finally being steady enough for Spock to understand what was happening, was whirled into a new frenzy. As best as Spock could tell, Jim was crossing through his quarters to the bedroom and shut the door. The captain landed on the bed with a screen-quaking plop before his smiling face filled the screen once more and Spock couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed after that. 

“Hi.” 

“Hello, Jim.” Spock gave him a bemused smile. “Have you been drinking?” 

“It’s okay, Bones is here and he didn’t stop me.” 

Spock couldn’t help but think that Jim should drink more if it made him smile so beautifully. “Stop that,” Jim warned him playfully. Before Spock could form the question in his open mouth, Jim answered it. “I see you thinking gooey thoughts about me and my smile. I know how you feel about it.” 

Jim turned and the bed whirled in the background as he laid down, giving him a distinctly rumpled look. Between intoxication and an undoubtedly long day, the captain looked positively ready to curl up with Spock’s blanket that he was absently toying with in the corner of the screen. 

“I am gratified to find you well, Jim.” 

“How are you Spock?” Jim asked seriously, though his intoxication exaggerated the shift in a way that might have thrown anyone besides a Vulcan. “Bones said you were kind of…”

Spock gave him a genuine smile and that seemed to please this version of Jim immeasurably. “I am well, Jim. My concern for you yesterday was… debilitating… but so far yesterday has been the exception. My treatment is progressing well and I am able to meditate without assistance for the most part.” 

“So you’re coming back?” he asked hopefully and there was a shine in his eyes that Spock didn’t want to take away. 

“Not yet,” he replied with regret obvious in his tone. “My troubles have underlying causes that Healer T’Gron is helping me to rectify. How are you, Jim? Doctor McCoy said you were burned very badly. You were unresponsive for half a day.” 

This had clearly been the wrong thing to ask. Jim looked away from the screen for the first time since their conversation had begun and Spock knew immediately that he was upset. “I have… scarring.” 

Whatever Spock had been afraid of, that was not it. Surely Jim wasn’t concerned about such superficial things? “This upsets you,” Spock observed. “There is nothing Doctor McCoy can do to help?” 

Jim shook his head, still looking away. “You’re not going to like looking at me.” 

“I am looking at you right now and I must say I find the experience very gratifying,” Spock assured him. 

“I mean… naked. You won’t want me any-“

“Jim, I will pretend you did not suggest that my affection for you has any correlation to your appearance or the smoothness of your skin. I have some scarring that you have yet to see. Should I be worried that you will feel less affection for me when you observe it?” 

“No!” Jim looked horrified. “Spock, no, I love you.” 

Spock’s breath caught in his throat. Sure, he had felt such sentiment from Jim, but hearing it was something entirely different. “I mean…” Jim fumbled for words before arriving at a silent conclusion. “I love you. I mean that I love you.” 

Spock’s fingers were on the screen again and his face was awash with emotion. “I too feel love for you, Jim.” His voice was quiet and the moment was far too short before Jim’s drunken mind was on to the next thing and the background of the visual feed was spinning as he sat up with entirely too much excitement. 

“Spock, have you ever tried Loch Lomond?” 

“Are you referring to the ancient Terran song?” 

“No. I mean… maybe. What? It’s a scotch, Spotch. Scock. Spock.” Jim giggled a little at his verbal stumble and Spock couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle as he witnessed this new facet of his captain. “I don’t think there’s any left, but we can probably find more. Do Vulcans get drunk? I want to see you drunk, Spock.” 

“I am uncertain,” Spock replied. “As the Vulcan metabolism is fas-“

“Okay, so when you get back we’ll find out,” Jim nodded before Spock could theorize about the amount of alcohol he would need to consume to become drunk. “I’m also gonna kiss you and probably find your scar and lick it.” 

Spock’s cheeks turned dark green as Jim grinned mischievously at him. Determined not to let the human win, Spock cleared his throat and said, “I did not say there was only one.” 

Jim’s jaw dropped in a cross between shock and amusement. He shut his mouth and drew so close to the screen that all Spock could see was half his face as Jim whispered, “I didn’t say I wouldn’t lick anything else.” 

Spock actually shivered and that seemed to provide Jim an immense amount of pleasure. “When I don’t have company, I want to talk about this more,” Jim told him and Spock was certain he wasn’t playing around anymore. “If you’re… amenable?” 

Spock swallowed. “I- I am.” 

“I want to kiss you so bad,” Jim told him. 

“I am of the same mind.” 

Jim then literally kissed the screen and Spock let out a watery laugh. “I fear that will have to be enough for now.” 

Jim nodded sadly. “I love you.” 

“I love you, ashayam. I must get ready for my appointment, but we will talk more later.” 

“Love you,” Jim repeated and Spock was tempted to call his whole appointment off just to stay with Jim until he was asleep. In his intoxicated state, Jim seemed very, to use an old Terran term, clingy. It was painfully obvious that the man Spock loved needed physical assurances at this time, and he was incapable of even providing extended visual ones. Spock pressed his two fingers to the camera, hoping Jim would understand the gesture before logging off. The half-Vulcan took a moment for himself after that to check in. He was mostly steady. Seeing and hearing Jim smile had done much to alleviate his anxiety, but there was still some under the surface. Spock was worried for Jim’s mental and emotional health. Had he truly been worried that Spock would leave him over something as menial as scarring? Spock resolved to do more to make his feelings clear to Jim. He often forgot that, though Jim could read him better than most, he was still incapable of reading Spock’s mind. 

The walk to the medical center felt different that day. Spock had found practical application for some of the things Healer T’Gron had taught him, and he had learned more disturbing things about his past and Nero’s influence. Truly, he had learned nothing concrete, but he had the feeling his counterpart was looking into the matter. Spock had the distinct impression that some form of sleuthing had been going on for a long time. The alterations to his own childhood and Jim’s experiences on Tarsus IV disturbed his counterpart to an extreme: that much was obvious. 

Kaiidth. 

Healer T’Gron was a full minute late to their session, apologizing curtly before taking her position on the mat across from Spock’s. He did not inquire as to the reason for her tardiness as their relationship was not built to be one of familiarity and she would have told him if he had any reason to know. Their hands connected, they met in front of the haphazard stacks of boxes. 

Spock reached for the box on top of the new stack when she stopped him. “Is that the next box, Spock?” 

“Yes,” he confirmed. “We have completed the stack of memories from my eleventh year. This is the first box of the twelfth.” 

“There are none that may have been lost?” 

“I do not believe so,” Spock frowned. 

“What do you know?” 

This was one of her favorite questions, it seemed like. Whenever Spock left room for uncertainty, she zeroed in on it immediately. With a sigh, Spock glanced behind the stack of the twelfth year. There was one lone sheet that overwhelmed him as soon as he grabbed it. 

_”It is good to meet you.”_

_Spock had never met a Vulcan who smiled before, let alone one who seemed pleased to know him. And this Vulcan did. He seemed genuinely pleased, the emotion displayed freely across his face. “Are you half-human? Like me?” Spock asked uncertainly._

_“No, my mother was Vulcan,” he confirmed. Spock’s face fell, but his new acquaintance wouldn’t stand for that. “I think it’s great that your mother is human. Vulcans weren’t born to logic and calm, Spock. We were meant to feel things. I think it’s a disgrace that we all pretend otherwise. It’s not a virtue to be a machine. We’re alive, with beating hearts. Do you not feel your own?”_

_Spock mimicked the motion the other Vulcan made, placing his hand at his core. He could feel his heart beating, a constant thrum in his side. “Vulcan emotions are strong,” Spock agreed. “That is what makes them dangerous.”_

_A hand reached for his own. “Emotions aren’t dangerous, Spock. Can I show you something?”_

The memory ended abruptly and Spock was left shaking. He had no idea who the older boy in his memory was, though there was something familiar about him. Spock had been so pleased to meet him and so eager to see whatever was going to be shown to him, but somehow the image of that face gave Spock a crawling sensation on his skin as though maggots were at work on his spine. 

He withdrew from their shared space abruptly. “Why do I not remember this?” he demanded. 

Healer T’Gron observed him very seriously, calculating. “I believe this is a question best posed to your father. Your memories have been medically altered, S’chn T’gai Spock. This is never a procedure done lightly. You found a single page, but there was an entire box which escapes your notice entirely. I will look into the matter to see if you may safely reintegrate these memories, but ultimately the only certainty lies with you.” 

Spock’s mind was reeling. His father? Why would anyone want to take away his memories? “I do not believe we should continue today,” Spock intoned, his voice even, though he felt anything but. 

“Until I can confirm the wisdom in proceeding with or without the protected memories, I must agree with your assertion. I know it to be the right choice.” 

“Thank you, Healer T’Gron. I know it too.” He wondered how many times he had expressed himself with uncertainty in the past. Now that he was working with the Healer, it seemed that almost everything he said had a built-in escape. Spock did not head to Selek’s home as he left the Healing center. He headed instead for his father’s office. Spock needed answers. 

He was forced to wait in his father’s office for far too long, growing impatient and fidgeting with his PADD. Finally, Spock opened the thing up and took a picture out the window. He addressed it to Jim, composing a brief message. He assured the captain of his progress and desire to return, before explaining the photo was the view of the administration section of New Vulcan but that he’d really just wanted an excuse to message him. _Be well, ashayam,_ he concluded the message. 

At least he could do that one productive thing. As Spock had already resolved, he would send as many assurances to Jim as he could when it was so clear that he needed them. Spock was coming to question Jim’s sense of permanence. Human infants did not have an understanding of object permanence, and Jim was neither an infant nor mentally undeveloped, but Spock did wonder if perhaps the issue was similar in nature. When someone was not with him, Jim seemed to forget too easily that they cared for him. 

Spock’s thoughts were interrupted and redirected as his father finally entered his own office. “Good afternoon, Spock,” his father greeted as he sat behind the desk this time. Good. Their proximity during their last talk had unnerved Spock and thrown him off balance. “You wished to see me?” 

“Why have my memories been altered?” Spock asked, skipping the context of his question. His father would know to what he was referring and did not even seem shocked by the question. 

“I feared you might come to me about this,” the old Vulcan confessed. “I had hoped it would not come up. You were shielded from certain experiences because of their damaging effect on your function.” 

“Who is he?” Spock demanded. 

“Please elaborate.” 

“The Vulcan who feels things, father. I met him when I was eleven.” 

“All Vulcans feel things, Spock,” his father reminded him. 

“Please do not redirect my attention. My mind has been altered and I deserve to know why.” 

“Eleven,” repeated the Vulcan. “I guess that was about when it happened. You were abducted and held for several months as he tried to sway you to his cause. By the time you returned to us, you were half mad. The emotions confused you. You flashed between rage and terror so quickly. We did not know what else to do to help you.” 

“Who abducted me? Was it the Vulcan who feels?” 

His father thankfully resisted the urge to correct him and merely nodded. “He is part of a fringe group of Vulcans who believe we should be more like the pre-reformation Vulcans of old. He wanted to recruit you and part of that was convincing you that Vulcans should lead with emotionalism and not Logic.” 

“Did he succeed?” Spock demanded. He couldn’t trust his own memories, after all. It had all been taken from him. 

“No, I don’t believe so,” his father replied. “Your mother told me one night that you had come to her, crying, begging for her to take it away.” 

Spock blinked and swallowed thickly. “So you did.” 

Sarak gave a curt nod. “We did. We removed all trace of him to avoid triggering your memories. It was a complicated process as he was your half-brother. Sybok.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaaaaat? Oh, snap!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooooo explicit content ahead.

Jim groaned in misery as his alarm let him know it was time to get ready for his shift. He rolled, letting first one leg flop out of bed and then the other before stopping and pretending he didn’t need to find the strength to get the rest of his body out of the mass of blankets and pillows. Speaking of pillows, he buried his face in Spock’s. The scent of his first officer was home now, the one thing that was consistently and unalterably good. The booze last night had been good, until now. Now it was terrible. 

With another groan, he forced his body from the bed, hunching and squinting his way to the replicator for a large glass of water. As he drank and his thoughts cleared, he sort of remembered talking to Spock the night before. The details were hazy, but he knew Spock was well, wasn’t coming home, and was really, really sexy. 

Jim felt a light blush heat his cheeks at that last thought. He remembered having some _very_ explicit mental images and thinking Spock felt the same. What had they even talked about? 

The glass of water uncomfortably heavy in his stomach, Jim headed to the shower. He couldn’t stop thinking about Spock and that vid call and was surprised, halfway through his shower, to realize he was hard. It didn’t hurt, either. Experimentally, he traced a finger along his length and shivered. Apparently the skin grafts and extensive healing from the burns had healed that as well. Or Bones could have done more than he had and wanted Jim to learn a lesson. That was most likely. It was mostly healed before the burns, but Jim had gotten so used to ignoring any less than chaste thoughts, he’d all but forgotten how nice it was to just be turned on. 

He leaned his forehead against the cold tile and pictured Spock, thought about stroking himself to completion to thoughts of faintly green skin and unrestrained facial expressions. 

In the end, he did it but mostly because he wasn’t sure how else to get rid of his erection in time for his shift. The orgasm was quick and intense, his first in months, and he actually dropped to his knees with the force of it. Jim let himself ride it out, catching his breath, still picturing Spock as his legs tried to find a way back to functionality. 

The hangover was still steamrolling him, but his mood was through the roof. Scotty slapped him on the back, seeming to think that the scotch had done these wonders, but for Jim it was definitely the release of all that sexual tension. That he’d done it with visions of Spock dancing through his mind made it even sweeter. 

Jim was absolutely hopeless. 

He spent the day in horribly long meetings that all seemed to point in the same direction: going planet-side. They’d gotten all they could from a distance and there was nothing more to achieve. Their data and findings had been analyzed to death, resurrected, and analyzed to death again. 

“So what you’re telling me is we have absolutely nothing new,” Jim finally interrupted. 

An uncomfortable silence fell in the conference room and Jim waited for anyone to challenge him on it. Half of them stared out into the dark void of space and the other half were seated on the wrong side of the table for that. 

“Okay,” Jim acknowledged. “Sulu, put together an away team. Andrews, have your team put together a list of most likely locations for sensor discrepancies. If we’re ever going to figure this out, we need more information and we’re not getting that without going planet-side again.” 

There were a few questions and clarifications, but everyone left and set to work fairly quickly- except for Sulu. 

“Sir, I’d like to request that someone else be in charge of the away team.” 

“Nonsense. You’re my first, and you’re the best man for the job,” Jim insisted. 

Sulu shook his head. “Sir, I’m still not fully… I know Doctor McCoy has cleared me for duty, but I’m… not ready.” 

Jim paused then and gave him a serious look, taking in the full extent of his first officer. Sulu looked like he’d healed up alright, though there were now burn scars visible above his collar. There was something off about him, now that Jim really looked. Sulu seemed hesitant, nervous, like he really wasn’t ready for an away mission. “Is it something I can help with?” 

Sulu shook his head. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, Captain, but I have a daughter. I’m not afraid of being hurt, and I’ll do my duty whatever it is, but this… I’ve never come so close to dying before, sir. To leaving her with only one parent.” 

Jim felt his throat tighten and nodded while he tried to regain his composure. “I know a little what that’s like,” he acknowledged. “I don’t want that for your little girl any more than you do. But it does leave me in kind of a spot… Who would you suggest head up the away team?” 

“Andrews, maybe,” Sulu replied. “I know she’s still pretty green, but she knows the most about what we’re looking at. I can help with logistics, but I’m going to need a little time before I leave the ship again.” 

“Acknowledged,” Jim agreed easily. “She and her team are working on the list, though. Do you think you can still put together the team even if you’re not on it? I trust you, Sulu. That’s why you’re my first while Spock’s gone.” 

“I can do that, sir.” 

Jim grasped the man’s shoulder. “Thank you. And I promised Uhura she’d be on the team.” 

Sulu gave him a nod and Jim gave his shoulder another squeeze before releasing him. He had his own work to do, part of which was writing a report on the previous away mission disaster. He outlined the events as accurately and efficiently as possible, attaching a list of injuries and medical reports to the file, and then proceeded to outline their current plan to gather more data. He painstakingly listed the safeguards they had planned and his contingencies to avoid another disaster. By the time he was done, all he had was his hangover and a very vocal hunger in his stomach. He left it aside to proof read after he replicated some lunch (again, with a very large glass of water) and tried to call Spock. 

There was no answer, so Jim simply opened up a message and began to record himself. He couldn’t help but look at the dark circles under his eyes before turning his attention to the camera. “Hey, Spock. So I’ve been writing this awful report all day and nursing this hangover- you don’t need to say it, I know- and I just thought I’d call you and say hello. I know you’re probably asleep or something. Actually, I really hope I didn’t wake you up… I just wanted to see you is all. I don’t really have anything to tell you, honestly. If you’re busy, don’t worry about it. By the time you’re up, it’ll be time for me to get to sleep anyway. But if you have anything to tell me, I want to hear it. I know you said you’re doing well, but I was uh…” he chuckled self-consciously, “I was pretty drunk last night, so the details are a little hazy. Anyway… I’ll talk to you eventually, I guess.” 

Jim hesitated just like last time, thinking about telling Spock he loved him, and disconnected abruptly just like last time. He told himself that it was for Spock’s benefit, that words like ‘love’ were too intense for Vulcan sensibilities. It was definitely not Jim’s own insecurity or discomfort with commitment. 

By the time he was halfway through proofing his report (his focus was less than zero, so it seemed to be taking the entire afternoon), Jim was even grateful for Chekov interrupting him with an argument between himself and Scotty over whether they should wait to replace a coupler. 

“Mister Chekov, I trust Scotty implicitly,” Jim replied. “But if you don’t have anything better to do, replacing this coupler won’t hurt anything so you have my go-ahead. As long as there’s nothing mission-related on your docket.” 

“Aye, sir. Thank you!” he replied as if Jim had just given him some kind of gift. Things must be really, really slow in engineering if Chekov and Scotty were arguing over a fucking coupler. Apparently they were all losing their minds to boredom. 

“Kirk to Andrews,” Jim intoned as soon as Chekov was safely gone. “How is that list going?” 

“Should have it done this evening, captain,” she replied. “It’ll be in your inbox by 2100.” 

“Great. Thanks, Andrews.” 

And he was left alone with his terrible report again. The letters swam on the page and he squinted through his headache for an hour before forcing another glass of water down, struggling for another five minutes, and sending it off as is. If he couldn’t get through it in an entire afternoon, he wasn’t going to get through it after dinner either. Besides, he’d just had a near death experience. If Starfleet couldn’t get over a few typos, they needed a serious priority check. 

Jim headed straight for his quarters, successfully avoiding anyone and everyone who might try to engage him, and replicated a light dinner. Jim ate slowly, trying to ignore the light roiling in his stomach. This was a damn persistent hangover. Jim made a mental note to be more careful with liquor from Scotty in the future. 

Just as he had given up on the day and crawled into bed, his PADD beeped with an incoming call. Jim was about to throw the thing across the room when he saw it was Spock. 

Jim’s eyes lit up and he was smiling genuinely as he answered. “Hey.” 

Spock looked equally pleased to see him, even if he was more restrained in the display of it. “Good evening, Jim.” 

“Good morning, Spock,” he teased the Vulcan. “You have impeccable timing. I was just about to go to sleep.” 

“Then I should not keep you,” Spock replied quickly. 

“No, keep me,” Jim insisted. “I’m done with my duties for the day. That’s all I meant.” 

“I am afraid I do not have much to report on my own progress aside from the fact that it is going subjectively slowly.” 

“I think so too,” Jim agreed. He simply stared at Spock’s face for a beat before adding, “but I can wait as long as I have to. I need my first officer healthy and strong.” 

Immediately, Jim realized his light humor had gone wrong when he saw Spock look away. “Yes, my duties-“

“Spock, shut up. You know I care about more than your duties.” 

Spock’s eyes returned and Jim held them fiercely, wishing that they weren’t far away from each other. “I wish you were here right now. I want to hold you.” 

“I would be amenable to this if it were possible,” Spock agreed and Jim chuckled lightly. 

Jim shifted in the bed to hold the PADD more comfortably. “I want to kiss you.” 

“And I you, ashayam.” 

“Everywhere.” 

Spock didn’t agree verbally, but the green tint on his cheeks seemed more amenable than not. 

Still, Jim wanted to hear it. “Would you be amenable to that?” he asked, his voice surprisingly low. 

“Yes, Jim, I believe I would,” he replied, though his voice wasn’t entirely steady. Jim smirked at the sound. 

“Do you want to know what else I would do if you were here?” Jim prompted and he could almost see the knot in Spock’s throat as he nodded wordlessly. “I would kiss your lips and your ears, every inch of your neck until you couldn’t stand it anymore. I would kiss your chest, your arms, up your legs and hips.” Jim barely needed to call up his fantasy from that morning. He was already getting hard, and the look on Spock’s face was only making him hotter. “Then I’d kiss your cock, teasing you until you lost all that Vulcan restraint, _begged_ me to use my whole mouth, and then I’d give you some tongue.” 

Spock was giving him a heavy, half-lidded look through the screen and Jim had a feeling his own face had a similar expression. “On my scars?” he asked breathlessly. 

“What?” Jim asked. He hadn’t been completely taken out, but he was definitely confused. 

“When we last spoke, you promised to locate my scars and lick them.” 

Jim’s mouth fell open a little. In another mindset, he might have laughed at himself, but not here, not during the most sexual experience he and Spock had so far shared. “Spock, it is my personal mission to leave no inch of you unlicked.” 

It should have been ridiculous, but neither of them were laughing. Finally, Spock began to speak. “I think you will find this difficult as my strength far exceeds yours and I too have a mission. The last time we spoke, you expressed concern that I would not wish to see you with your burn scarring. My mission is to kiss each and every one of these scars until you love them as much as I do.” 

Jim’s heart swelled. “Vulcans aren’t supposed to be this romantic,” Jim chided. 

“The romance is merely a precursor to my successful attempt to swallow your entire erection, and then swallow around it to create a sensation I feel certain no previous partner has been able to give you.” 

Jim actually choked at the deadpan delivery. Or possibly at the thought of Spock’s throat convulsing around him. He wasn’t really sure, but his hand was now fisted in the sheet and his grip on the screen was almost painful. “That’s no fair,” Jim replied breathlessly. 

“I am not concerned with fair,” Spock shrugged. “I want to see your face when you climax, Jim.” 

Such clinical terms for sex shouldn’t turn him on, but fuck they really do. He reached out and began to touch himself. “Then I guess I’ll have to let you,” he replied with a slight moan. His eyes fell shut for a moment before he realized he wanted to see Spock, the real Spock. “Are you turned on right now, Spock?” 

“I am admittedly very much aroused,” Spock confessed and Jim shuddered a little, squeezing himself to stave off the orgasm. He’d just done this that morning, but having Spock in front of him, talking like this… it was going to undo him all over again. 

“Touch yourself,” Jim begged. “I want to see you too. I mean, if- if that’s okay.” 

Spock hesitated, his mouth open as if to list the reasons this long-distance encounter was illogical, but instead the screen shifted and Spock leaned back against what appeared to be a headboard. Jim heard clothing rustle and another shiver of electricity swam through his core. “Jim,” Spock said, his voice deliciously unsteady, “I must confess that I am curious about this loss of control you seem determined to elicit from me.” 

Jim held Spock’s eyes, his own breathing extremely uneven and his voice more unsteady than Spock’s. “Good because I want to touch you and kiss you and suck hickeys onto your inner thighs.” 

“What are hickeys?” Spock asked, staring lustily at Jim’s mouth. 

“Little bruises, but they feel good and they’re like little circles that say you’re mine.” 

Jim actually saw Spock shudder and he smiled wickedly, letting his own hand move a little faster. Spock’s screen was shaking, so Jim had a feeling his own pace had picked up a little. “I believe that I will leave many hickeys in various places on your own body, then, Jim. I very much- ah- appreciate the idea of a visible…” Spock’s words trailed off and Jim couldn’t form his own. To hear Spock let out that unrestrained noise mid-thought had almost undone him. 

“Spock,” he moaned quietly and heard his own name echoed in response. That was the end for Jim. With another moan that only sort of sounded like Spock’s name, he came hard, doing his best to keep his eyes open as he watched his Vulcan finish himself off. 

It was everything Jim had imagined and more. He let his eyes worship the screen as Spock allowed Jim to see this side of himself that no one else ever had. In a way, he almost wished he could give Spock the same thing. There was something close he could give the Vulcan, something he hadn’t given to anyone else before. 

“I love you,” he breathed, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Spock’s gaze came back into focus a little as they both tried to catch their breath. “I love you as well, ashayam,” Spock replied. His gaze was soft and open, and Jim was struck again by how lucky he was to witness this. 

“You’re beautiful,” Jim told him, and it was true. “I could look at you forever like this.” 

That seemed to remind Spock just how open he’d made himself and Jim was unable to hide his disappointment as the walls started to go back up. “Unfortunately, I have an appointment in half an hour, so a few minutes must suffice for now.” 

Jim impeded Spock’s view for a moment as he slipped his hand with the PADD under Spock’s pillow so that he could cuddle it while looking at his own _ashayam_. “Since these appointments are the key to bringing you back to me, I won’t argue.” 

Spock’s two fingers obscured most of the camera and Jim felt warmed. He placed his own fingers over the camera and tried to imagine Spock’s thoughts merging with his own. “I miss your brain too,” he admitted. 

“There is much I will have to share with you in that regard when I return,” Spock told him as his face swam back into view. “Though at this point, I am uncertain what it will cover.” 

Jim moved his own fingers to allow Spock to see his face again. “Whatever you want to share with me I’ll be grateful for.” 

“You should orgasm more frequently, Jim,” Spock smirked. “It makes you very forthcoming.” 

“Spock-“

“And it will not leave you with a hangover in the way that your scotch does,” he teased. 

“Spock!” 

But Jim couldn’t be angry, couldn’t even pretend for very long. “I will contact you as soon as I can, ashayam. Please care for yourself in my absence.” 

“You too, Spock. Keep my first safe.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would've told me when i started writing this series back in May that i was going to write a scene where Jim and Spock basically had phone sex, i would've laughed you right out the door.
> 
> It so happens i might still do that because the thought of this scene cracks me up almost as much as the awkward quadrupedal alien secks.


	26. Chapter 26

Spock considered very seriously whether or not to contact Jim. He did not believe he could properly focus on anything but the most recent revelations for his personal life, the memories taken from him without his permission, and he was not yet ready to burden his t’hy’la with them. Once again, Selek had to help him meditate. The elder Vulcan did not have much to tell him about their half-brother Sybok aside from the fact that their half-brother, like every other disparity between their timelines, did not make sense. Selek seemed to grow more troubled with each revelation, but there was nothing Spock could do to assist when the old man refused to share with him. 

It was incredibly frustrating and was still on his mind when he made his way to Healer T’Gron for his appointment the next morning. He was sure she would ignore his frustration and simply point his attention toward their task, but instead she engaged him. 

“You are experiencing distraction in the form of negative emotion,” she stated, pulling away before they could properly connect. 

With a nod, he assured her, “I will forget it once we begin the work.” 

“The work is remembering, Spock,” she reminded him. “Do not forget your emotional state. Analyze, catalogue, and put away.” 

“Of course.” 

He went through the earlier conversation again while she sat patiently. Selek was correct in that Spock should not know too much about his counterpart’s timeline. It could affect his choices. If, for example, Selek informed him that he faced a dangerous person on a specific planet, Spock might avoid that planet and miss out on something vital. Enough changes had been made. 

So what was he still so upset about? 

Perhaps it was that he knew things were not as they should be, but who said what should or should not be? His and Jim’s counterparts were never engaged in a romantic relationship and that alone felt fundamentally incorrect to Spock. His katra called for Jim’s, and relegating themselves to nothing but friendship felt like an insult to their bond. 

Perhaps it was Jim, then. It was impossible to say yet what changes had been made, but they all seemed to hurt his captain badly. 

That was it. Jim was hurt and it was some extension of Spock’s fault. 

Understanding washed through him and he took the thoughts, catalogued them, and filed them away. He opened his eyes to regard Healer T’Gron and inclined his head. “I am ready. Thank you, Healer T’Gron.” She extended her hands and he extended his, partially joining their consciousness. 

_I have obtained clearance to help you reintegrate your memories. Do you see this box?_

Spock looked at the spot he could sense her gesturing to. “There is nothing,” he replied. 

_That is as expected. I am able to see the files, so I will hand them to you. They should become observable as the memories reintegrate._

Spock agreed wordlessly. He was nervous but also eager. Here was something new, which was frightening and exciting all at once. These memories belonged to him and had been taken from him, supposedly at his own request. Whatever was in them, he would likely not be the same being emotionally when he left this session. 

He could sense her hand, but there was nothing in it as far as he could tell. He reached anyway, knowing she would not offer him an empty hand. Immediately, his hand brushed against the file and it quivered in and out of existence just long enough for him to grab it. No sooner had it solidified for him than he was plunged into the memory. 

_”You’re not broken or weird,” Sybok promised him. “In fact, you’re probably stronger than all of us. Your father’s refusal to see it is illogical.”_

_Spock felt small and weak, but those words bolstered him. His father had been even more inattentive and brusque with him than usual and Spock had retreated more than usual, making it impossible for either of his parents to notice he was struggling. But Sybok did._

_“I don’t think so,” he mumbled. “I would probably lose a fight against a full-blooded Vulcan.”_

_“You won one before, didn’t you?” Sybok shrugged. “Heard you beat his face in.”_

_“An example of my volatile emotions and my inability to control them.”_

_Sybok knelt in front of him, taking his hands. “Your emotions increase your strength, Spock. That is how you beat him. Your human biology gives you greater control over your emotions than any Vulcan would with the same. Your Vulcan biology gives you greater strength than any human of comparable size would have. You are a child of two worlds, and you have the strengths of each.”_

_The intensity of his brother’s gaze was uncomfortable and it stirred something in Spock that it took him a moment to place. He did not often feel pride, but that was undoubtedly what he was experiencing. “If you say so.”_

_“I do. You are good, Spock. You are worthy.”_

Spock gasped in air and gave her a wide eyed look. He had been prepared for horror, for a monster, not for someone who cared for him as deeply as his mother had. Healer T’Gron waited patiently and Spock realized he was still holding the memory and needed to file it somewhere. 

The Drawer of Joy opened and Spock added this memory to the new, empty folder: Pride. 

When he turned back, the form of Healer T’Gron was offering him another invisible memory. They continued this way, with more memories of his half-brother encouraging him and building his self-worth. Spock could see now that he was being manipulated, but as a child he was too enthralled by positive attention, too hungry for acceptance. Sybok was grooming him to trust and love his half-brother. His suspicions were confirmed when the memory of the abduction finally came up. 

_Sybok insisted that Spock needed to meet some friends of his, that he needed to join their cause. Spock could feel the distant memory of his own discomfort. While he loved and trusted Sybok, the idea of joining some kind of rebel band made him deeply uneasy. While Vulcans had not exactly been kind to him, he saw nothing inherently wrong with the teachings of Surak._

_He went anyway, following his brother (and it was telling that Spock’s younger self did not supply the modifier of half-brother in his thoughts and feelings) into the open expanse of desert until a sack was pulled over his head. He could see sunlight through the weave and little else. There were many hands on him as he fought against them, thinking he was about to be subjected to another cruel experiment, having what he could now, as an adult, recognize as a flashback._

The memory ended abruptly and he was left with his barely controlled emotions in front of the healer’s presence. She showed no reaction to his stress, only held out another memory to him. It was an entire stack of pages, he realized, as they materialized. All of them hit him at once. It was pages and pages of being locked in a cold, stone cell. There was no one here, only occasional ration bars pushed through a slot in his door by hands whose owners he could not see. 

He hastily shoved the pages into the Loneliness Drawer and requested that they terminate the day’s session. 

She withdrew, leaving him to grapple with his emotions alone. He could see now why his younger self would have wanted these memories taken away. Why had Sybok taken all that time, spent all that energy to build him up and gain his trust if he was just going to lock Spock away like a forgotten memory? 

His thoughts swirled unpleasantly as he returned to his counterpart’s home and he remembered to shut the door this time, lest he have another witness to another embarrassing emotional display. He managed to find sleep far more easily than he should have, and far earlier. 

When he woke, there was a message from his captain. The man looked tired and miserable and somehow it brought Spock out of himself. Here was his Jim, openly admitting he had no reason to contact Spock, unwilling to come out and say that he had a basic need for communication. 

Jim needed reassurance and Spock fully intended to provide it for him. 

What he did not expect was the turn of the conversation, the intimate nature of it, the sudden explosion of feelings- both physical and emotional. It was overwhelming, somehow in a good way. Their kiss was superficial, but somehow it still felt incredibly real. Spock loved this man too much. He could see the negative effect his absence was creating and it was nearly unbearable. The only thing that could get him through was reminding himself of the alternative, if he returned without truly becoming well and was lost to Jim permanently. 

The rest of his memories related to Sybok were less intense. Spock was reunited with his parents, wrapped in his mother’s arms- a memory which had its own bittersweet bite to it now that she was gone- so relieved to be safe. He missed that feeling of safety and realized there was a new place he experienced it: with Jim. 

Against his wishes, flashes of his captain flew through his mind. Being held, being told that Jim loved him, the strangled gasp of his own name on the human’s lips. 

Spock could sense the Healer’s discomfort and did his best to tamp down on his memories. 

His fourteenth year went subjectively quickly, though objectively it had taken the rest of the afternoon. Both he and Healer T’Gron were exhausted from the work even though it had not been so emotionally taxing as some other days. 

“Spock,” she said to arrest his movements as he began to leave. He stopped and tried to keep his curiosity from his expression. “Though it can change nothing which has happened, I wish to inform you that I have been seeking recourse for some of the crimes I have witnessed in your memories.” 

“Crimes?” he echoed, feeling confused. 

“I believe you refer to them as experiments.” 

Spock felt something in his face flinch a little, but otherwise he remained impressively impassive. “I do not see the relevance…” 

“Though it has not been proven to you through your early experiences, most Vulcans do hold life sacred. Especially now, when Vulcan lives are so few, we must ensure that all Vulcans are held accountable for our treatment of one another.” 

Spock felt his throat tighten to hear her so casually claim him as a fellow Vulcan. “I am gratified by the sentiment and I thank you for sharing your plans with me.” 

She inclined her head and he took it as the dismissal it was, sleeping well through his exhaustion until the next day when she informed him that their session was canceled. Without waiting for him to inquire, she explained that her knowledge of the human brain was unparalleled among Vulcans which was why she had been selected to meet the Enterprise to attempt to help its incapacitated captain. 

Spock asked her what had happened to Captain Kirk, and all she would offer him was the opportunity to accompany her back to the ship, the promise of continuing his sessions while traveling, but he accepted only the former. 

He could not allow her into his mind when all that he had left inside was screaming. 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's kinda jumpy in terms of location, so i apologize but also i don't because i want it to be as disorienting for everyone as it is for Jim. So there? (I've had too much caffeine. Wait 'til you see the end note. I just can't stop babbling.)

“This isn’t like any dead rock I’ve ever seen,” Uhura observed as the shuttle touched down. The list compiled by Andrews’ team had made it pretty clear which areas were most likely to be of interest, so they had gone back to Elnath I, the source of the interference, but this time they touched down on the opposite side of the planet. 

“No, it is not,” Jim agreed warily. Unlike the barren terrain which hosted the alien tech his crew had been diligently trying to crack for over a month, this section of the planet was full of plant life- and who knew what else? Andrews had come to Jim the morning after the epic hangover, suggesting that perhaps the reason they had yet to make headway was that the device they had uncovered was not truly the device for which they were searching. It made a certain kind of sense. If the cloaking technology could fool their sensors into believing a lava planet was safe, why couldn’t it fool them into believing a useless machine was responsible? It was small, after all. They had all assumed that its size was indicative of advanced science, but Andrews’ solution was the simplest: it was incapable of affecting an entire solar system. 

“Alright, helmets on,” he heard Bones’ voice say over the communicators. “You’re on the planet, act like it.” 

With a roll of his eyes, Jim complied. This was one of the safeguards he’d agreed to, but he still hated it. They needed the suits on the planet, sure, but the shuttle? Once everyone was ready, they disembarked and began observing the new environment in their own ways. The science team had tricorders, security was surreptitiously rooting out hiding places and escape routes, Uhura was listening to something in her scanner, and Jim… Jim simply took it all in. 

The trees were green conifers with round fruits of different colors, making it look almost like it had been decorated for a holiday. Jim realized with a sudden pang that it was December. He didn’t celebrate Christmas really, but he did practice a secular version. It was the time of year when he surreptitiously gave his loved ones gifts and made excuses to spend time with them. For his crew, that meant leaner tasks and more shore leave. For his family, that meant an obligatory call to his mother. Jim would add Georgie and Hutch to that list this year. It also meant Jim thought about contacting the couple of his kids that made it off the planet, composing and re-composing messages only to delete them without sending. December was the time right before his birthday when he celebrated the people he had before they could be taken from him. 

And Spock was across the galaxy. The person who felt most important to Jim would be nowhere near him. It didn’t help that he hadn’t heard from Spock since their intimate moment. The picture and (frankly pointless, but that was the beauty of it) message had been a wonderful balm for his hangover, but the complete silence since their moment weighed on Jim. He knew Spock had important things to do, but Jim missed their late night (or early morning for Spock) calls. More importantly, he worried that they’d gone too far and that Spock was uncomfortable now. What if he’d realized he didn’t want that kind of relationship? 

“Captain, I may be detecting humanoid life signs up ahead.” 

That got Uhura’s attention and Jim attempted to be as interested as she was. The two members of their security team were on alert, phaser holsters unlocked. “Peace first,” Jim reminded everyone. “We’re not here to fight. We’re here to figure out what’s going on.” 

“Captain, they’re advancing very rapidly-“

The next thing Jim knew, he was on his back in the transporter room and no one else was there. The away team was missing and so was the crew. With a grimace and groan to match, he rolled over and stumbled to his feet. “Scotty?” he slurred out. This felt like a cross between a hangover and being stuck mid-transport. Everything hurt, and his atoms felt like they were swirling around each other. There was no answer. “Mister Chekov?” 

Jim leaned heavily against the doors to the transporter room and looked down the hall. It was completely empty. Dragging himself back to the transporter console, he initiated a ship-wide page. “Enterprise, this is the captain speaking. Is anyone on board?” Jim should know the answer: no. According to the console, he was the only life sign in the entire star system. That was _not_ what he needed right now. He tried to open up a channel to Starfleet, but the communications array was malfunctioning. 

Finally, the console lit up and he heard a voice. “Captain Kirk?” 

Jim practically slammed the button to answer her. “Andrews, am I glad to hear your voice. Where are you?” 

“I woke up in medical,” she replied. “There’s- there’s no one here.” 

“I’m in the transporter room. There’s no one here either,” Jim confirmed. 

“What about- about elsewhere?” 

She sounded young now, which she was. She had just never sounded like it before. Andrews had been strong and fearless from the moment he’d met her, and to hear her voice quaver made Jim’s own fear skyrocket. He decided to avoid her question. “I think the interference has gotten to the ship. I’m not even reading your life sign in medical. Are you hurt?” 

“I- I don’t think so.” 

“Good,” Jim said. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll come to you.” 

The ship was eerie and Jim knew in his heart that it was truly empty. The lights were on and the machines were doing everything they should be doing, but there were no living creatures. It made his skin crawl with the wrongness of it. Walking through the halls made him feel unsteady with no one to run into, no conversations or laughter to overhear. 

He was beyond relieved when his arrival in the medbay corridor was confirmed by a tentative, “Captain!” 

He hurried to close the distance between himself and the lieutenant. “Nothing?” he asked and she confirmed with a nod. Jim glanced over his shoulder as if the action might produce someone else who might have answers, but the corridor was still unnervingly silent. “Alright, first things first. We’ll access the ship’s log to see if we can figure out what happened since we arrived on the planet. This way.” 

They were both nervous in their silence and walked quickly. Jim was glad he wasn’t the only one who seemed eager to leave the empty halls. He exited the hall into Spock’s lab, knowing there had been one closer, and not knowing why he had to be here and not there. Choosing to ignore the inherent question, he headed straight to the Vulcan’s work station and tried to pull up recent records. 

“Leave now,” the computer intoned. 

Jim glanced at her and they shared a wide-eyed look. “Computer, access ship’s logs.” 

“Leave now.” 

“Computer,” Jim insisted. “Access ship’s logs since last away mission.” 

“Leave now and they will be spared.” 

Jim felt his entire world drop out from under him. For a full six seconds, he couldn’t breathe. Finally, he stammered out, “Computer, explain.” 

“The interlopers are not welcome here. Leave now and they will be spared.” 

“Computer, who are the interlopers?” 

“The crew of this ship are the interlopers. Leave now and they will be spared.” 

“To whom am I speaking?” Jim asked. He should be afraid of the answer, but he was Captain James Tiberius Kirk now. His crew was in danger and he wasn’t leaving. 

There was silence that felt like it went on forever before finally the voice of the computer broke it once again. “I am the people of the system you refer to as Elnath. You will leave. You are not welcome.” 

“I’m not leaving without my crew,” Jim insisted. “Many would consider their abduction an act of war.” 

“Captain-“ Andrews interjected fearfully. 

“Return my crew and I will not take retaliatory action,” Jim ground out. 

“Your crew belong to me now,” the computer informed him simply. “Your sensors are under my control. Your threats carry no weight.” 

It was true, but that wouldn’t stop Jim Kirk. “Sorry, I forgot. You told me who you are, but I haven’t introduced myself. My name is _Captain_ James Tiberius Kirk and I don’t need a ship to take you down. I don’t need sensors to find you. They’re just tools and I can use others. Return my crew, unharmed, or you’ll find out just how much weight my threats carry.” 

The lights on the ship went out. 

“Captain, maybe you shouldn’t have-“

Suddenly, the ship was filled with the sound of screaming. Jim clapped his hands over his ears and grimaced. He had to find a way to shut the sound off. Reaching forward, he couldn’t find the console. He stumbled further, going on and on before realizing he wasn’t going to find it. Where was he? Jim continued forward, sure that there had to be something if he just kept moving, but there was nothing. His eyes were wide in the effort to see anything in the pitch dark, but his resolve was waning. The screams only seemed to grow louder and he realized the wetness on his neck was blood. His ears were literally bleeding. The last thing he knew was the floor hitting him in the face. 

“Captain?” 

Jim blinked blearily. His head was killing him. 

“Captain?” 

There was a soft light now, at least. 

“Captain, can you hear us?” 

That finally brought him back and he sat up, spluttering as his head pounded in protest. He looked around. Andrews and Uhura were the only ones with him. They were in a cell, at least he thought it was a cell. The room was large and green. There were no doors or windows and Jim realized he was sitting on something mildly soft, though the round platform seemed to be the only form of furniture in the room. “What happened to the crew?” he asked Uhura immediately. It was hard to focus. 

“I don’t know, Jim,” she replied. “I woke up here just like you did.” 

“No,” Jim shook his head and turned his gaze on Andrews. “We were on the ship before here. Everyone was gone.” 

“Sir?” Andrews asked, looking at him in confusion. “Everyone?” 

“Well, we didn’t exactly have time to look, but wouldn’t you say it was empty?” 

“I don’t know, sir,” Andrews replied. “Are you suggesting I was on the ship with you?” 

“Shit,” Jim swore and rubbed his face. “Are you saying you weren’t?” 

She shook her head and then both of them were looking at him in concern. “Jim?” Uhura prompted. 

“I think these fuckers were inside my head,” Jim moaned. “I think they were trying to communicate.” 

“What did they say?” 

Jim relayed the whole thing to them, wishing he’d known at the time that it was probably some kind of test. He’d obviously failed. What if they killed his crew, destroyed his ship? 

Fuck, his head hurt. 

“Where’s the rest of the away team?” he finally asked. “Any idea?” 

“The last thing I remember is being on the planet and then… just this,” Uhura admitted. 

“Me too,” agreed Andrews. 

“What do you think…”

Uhura’s voice faded out and Jim was suddenly back on the empty ship with the facsimile of Andrews. “Captain? What do you think we should do?” 

Jim rubbed his head angrily. “This is a shitty way to communicate!” he yelled. “It is not pleasant and it hurts!” 

“Captain?” Andrews(?) asked hesitantly, looking frightened of him. 

“Look, if you want us gone, then that means all of us. I’m not going anywhere until my crew is safe aboard the ship. That means all of us.” 

“Captain, I don’t understand,” Andrews said and Jim realized he was probably addressing a hallucination. 

Turning to the computer, Jim steeled himself. “I’m talking to the people of the Elnath system. We did not come here to cause trouble. We’re not here to take without permission. If you would like to talk to us, then talk to us, but taking my crew- or me, I’m not sure which at this point- captive is not an approach we will take kindly to.” 

“Leave now.” 

“Not without my crew.” 

“Leave now.” 

“Not. Without. My crew.” 

“ _Leave now_.”

“Listen here, you sons of bitches-“

Jim reeled as he came back to himself in the cell. He turned to the side and dry heaved as his center of gravity tried to realign itself. “This is why I’m not in communications,” he grimaced. “Someone else needs to take a turn. Please.” 

As if listening in, suddenly an opening appeared in the wall and two life forms began to take Uhura. Jim struggled, trying to get to his feet to stop them, but his head was still spinning and he couldn’t even make it to his feet. The worst part was that he had no idea what the life forms looked like. He wasn’t even sure they were life forms. He knew they were solid, but as soon as he wasn’t looking at them, he had no idea what they were. Clearly they could fool more than just sensors. 

He yelled, but ultimately he was useless. The door disappeared and Jim fell back in exhaustion. He felt like a steaming pile of garbage. “Fuck,” he moaned. “What are they gonna do to her?” 

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Andrews said and she actually sounded certain. 

“She better be,” Jim replied. “If they hurt her or any other member of our crew, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” she asked and Jim realized he didn’t know. 

Shutting his eyes, Jim sighed sadly. “I don’t know. They won’t get away with it, I know that. I’m not a killer unless I have to be.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“I mean if it comes down to my crew’s lives, I’ll do whatever I have to do,” Jim replied darkly. “Even if I can’t stand up right now.” 

Reality jerked away from him again and this time he was in his cell on Tarsus IV. Cold stone bit into his knees as if this were reality, but it couldn’t be. Jim’s hands were too small, his arms too hairless. His head pounded so hard his vision blurred- but not so much that he couldn’t see Andrews’ face through the small window of the door. “Captain? Why are you imprisoned?” 

Jim didn’t reply. He gagged, feeling sure he was going to vomit but nothing came. Of course not. This was Tarsus IV. There was no food here, except what was rotting on that plate, promising hallucinations and pain. “Captain, are you imprisoned for murder? Is this where you first became a killer?” 

“Stop using my crew to get to me,” Jim slurred as he tried to stand and fell hard on his youthful wrist. 

“Please answer the question.” 

“I wasn’t locked up here for murder,” he gritted out. “Why are you doing this to me?” 

“You refuse to leave,” Not-Andrews informed him simply. “I must now gage the threat you pose to determine whether you may be ejected or if your people must be exterminated.” 

“Great,” Jim barely managed to get out. He wanted to say something clever or get more information, but his body was conspiring against him. Jim pressed a hand against his mouth to try to fight the nausea and choked painfully. 

“Why were you imprisoned?” 

“For not committing murder!” Jim shouted, but he was back in the cell with the real Andrews. 

“Captain?” she asked worriedly. 

He pressed his cheek against the floor. It was cold and that didn’t feel quite as terrible as trying to pay attention to anything. She repeated his title and he groaned in response. Heading towards him, she hesitated when he said, “I’m fine.” 

“With all due respect, Captain, you don’t seem very fine.” 

“I don’t feel like it either,” he agreed. 

“Then why did you say-“

“Habit,” he interrupted. “The people here… don’t seem to care… ‘bout talking.” 

Suddenly Jim was home, hiding in his closet. He knew what came next. The door split open, blinding him with light as his uncle grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out. “Your people are violent,” Asshole remarked. Jim didn’t have a clever reply. He felt like he was going to pass out any second now and being faced with a second variety of his childhood trauma was breaking him down. He was scared, just like he had been before Tarsus taught him that he could fight back. “Is this how the elders teach the young to kill?” 

Jim was thrown across the room, his tiny body cracking against the desk. His math homework swished to the floor almost gracefully. Jim’s nose dripped blood onto one of the pages and he could only think that he would have to redo the whole thing so no one found out. 

Green. Uhura’s face swimming into his vision. “Captain! Can you hear us?! Jim!” 

Before Jim could even think of the word trees or figure out if that was the place they were taken on Elnath I, he was back in the cell. 

He whimpered, actually whimpered, and if Andrews had anything to say about it Jim didn’t find out because suddenly he was digging and there was Ty, strong and alive and so _young_. “This is the learning institution where we are taught to kill each other.” 

“No,” Jim all but growled. “Not him. You do not… not him.” 

The facsimile tilted his head in a mockery of the way Ty used to and Jim screamed in rage. 

“I take it this form has significance.” 

Jim’s memories fast-forwarded to the moment of Ty’s death. Kodos was on him, beating him, kicking him almost to death and then things sped up. Occasionally things would back up and replay as if someone was studying Jim’s memories, playing things back to make sure they were understanding. Jim lost control of his body as his entire life was played and replayed. He was forced to act out the worst moments of his life over and over while the good ones sped by as if they didn’t matter to whoever felt entitled to his mind. 

Inside, Jim wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so yep that's it for a while. I warned you about the cliffhanger. I was so up front about it. If you click through to the series listing and sub there, it should let you know when i get part three up. I must insist, however, that it goes up all at once and not chapter by chapter. Sometimes i need to go back and my continuity hurts if i can't.
> 
> But i'm super glad i edited these two before going any further in three because i literally forgot something important and plot-altering that i was intending to do and which makes a lot more sense than the random thing i was writing a week ago.
> 
> This is why i should prob outline things or at least keep notes but eh.
> 
> Please maybe comment or something. I live on that stuff. And i'm not telling you what inspired the alien that i didn't realize Jim was gonna have sex with until i'd already created the race because you'll literally never be able to play Pokemon comfortably again.


End file.
